A Columbus Day Treat

I would truly be ungrateful if I didn’t share with you how just this past week on Columbus Day I found we have such wonderfully civic minded people in our subdivision. If only they could know how it makes me sleep securely at night to know they take seriously their duty as citizens. I don’t know what I would do without their being there to make sure the grass in my lawn, as well as the grass in other neighbors’ lawns, does not exceed eight inches in length.

I know, it is a tough job, and no one wants to do it. So, we’re ever so grateful that you are sacrificing your time and energy to come measure the length of grass in so many of your neighbor’s lawns and then assuming the expense of calling city hall. We know it has been an especially hard thing to do lately, considering all the rain we’ve been having.

It is wonderful having neighbors as thoughtful and caring as you, and whoever you are, please know that we just wouldn’t know when it is time to cut our lawns if it wasn’t for your silent caring to ask city hall to send out an ordinance inspector to bring all our attentions to a reminder of our civic obligations…

Robert Frost wrote a poem called Mending Wall. He and his neighbor went through an annual activity of rebuilding a stonewall that marked the boundary between Frost’s orchard and the neighbors pine grove. Parts of the wall would be knocked down by winter’s frost heaving or by inconsiderate hunters. Frost first starts out inwardly thinking how silly the whole thing is, since the wall was originally intended on keeping things in or out, like livestock, but that there is no longer that need. But the action, while seemingly only symbolic, was well understood by the neighbor in the neighbor’s words of “Good fences make good neighbors.”

Every municipality has some rather stupid laws on the books that are known as “Good Neighbor” laws. They are typically anything but “good neighbor” laws, as they do not encourage neighborly interaction, but anonymous complaint about things others don’t like in others who live nearby. No, we’re not talking things like nuisances. The definition of a nuisance is something that starts on one property and spreads or moves to another contingent property. Nuisances are things like uncontrolled animals, weeds, smells, noise, and trash. “Good neighbor” law items have more to do with aesthetics, and are more or less there to allow a complainer to force someone else to make their property more appealing to the eye. Therefore, things as trivial as a lawn’s grass length are codified into city law. And depending on how snobby a city is, that code can be pretty silly.

And the best thing about all this is the complainer doesn’t have to do any interaction with the neighbors they are complaining about, and due to privacy concerns, the city will not inform “violators” of the code who the source of the complaint is. I mean, the last thing they want is for neighbors to be unfriendly and do things in retaliation, right? So, there you have it. So called “Good Neighbor” laws. They end up wasting tax payer money by having to pay an ordinance inspector to go out and investigate, using city vehicles no less, and then again they have to go out again to see that compliance was met.

In our case, it was quite interesting. We had a short period where patches of our lawn likely exceeded the ordinance level of 8 inches. And we had a valid reason. Rain. And more rain. And then in between the rain and more rain, some rain. And the windows in between the rain and more rain and some rain were not sufficient to match when we could get out and run the lawn mower over the lawn. But, the lawn was well under the maximum allowable length when the city inspector measured it. Did the concerned neighbor bother to ask us (or the other individual home owners they complained about) if there was anything they could do to help? Did they know or bother to find out that for religious reasons we do not do yard work on Sundays? Did they bother to find out that our lawn care company had given us instructions to purposely let our lawn grow longer all season as part of the program to eradicate weeds and improve the density and overall health of our lawn? You guessed it… nope.

I wonder, was it simply a case of they didn’t like to see taller grass than their bi-weekly “professionally” manicured showcase lawn?

Or was it a case that the homeowners association president and board members had nothing better to do now that they were finished wasting the money collected in annual subdivision dues (which is really a tax that was never approved by a ballot referendum but each property owner nevertheless has to pay annually in addition to property taxes or else the homeowners association will place a lien on your property before it can be sold) on “redeveloping” the main entrance to the subdivision with new landscaping and lighting? Hey homeowners association Nazis, did it occur to you that maybe the wonderful lighting engineering you purchased is now a nightly nuisance to us? Yeah, the light source that is just ever so slightly angled wrong is a good 25 yards or so away, but did you realize it shines on our home every night now with sufficient intensity to require we keep blinds closed? It shines on one side of our house almost as if it were one of our Christmas decoration floodlights. But, since you don’t live up here by your masterpiece of a “look at our wonderful subdivision” monument, it is no skin off your nose.

Or was it a case that someone who has had their home on the market for months and months decided that their home must have not been selling because of the laziness of neighbors whose lawns are driving potential buyers away? Well, did it ever occur to you that maybe your house isn’t selling because you are asking far too much for it, or that the housing market is oversaturated with homes on the market in a period where the economy in our area sucks and that there are few buyers? Well, all I can say is enjoy selling your home at less than what you wanted to get for it when it finally does sell, ya bozo.

Or was the city ordinance inspector simply out trying to drum up some revenue for the city on a bank and postal holiday? See, if the property owner doesn’t cut the lawn within 24 hours of being notified, the city will then send out someone to cut the lawn at the property owner’s expense, and the city then bills the property owner a premium rate which includes not only the cost of cutting the lawn but a “service fee” and penalty. So, Mr. City Ordinance Inspector, why did you still give a warning when you yourself clearly stated that the length of our grass (and that of the other neighbors you inspected) was not in excess of the maximum length allowed by code? Why were we still ordered to cut the lawn within 24 hours or face sanction, when we weren’t in violation of code at the time of your inspection? Seems like a perfectly good use of the taxpayer money, particularly when there doesn’t seem to be the money to do simple road repair. Oh, by the way, did you notice the piles of dirt that appear to have been dumped illegally in the empty lot across the main street from our subdivision? And yeah, your telling us that other municipalities have grass length laws where the grass can’t even be as high as ours is now, that while it isn’t breaking the “law” here, it would be there… yeah, that really does make us feel so much better about your visit.

I don’t know. It all seems pretty stupid. It is not like anyone whose lawn was “under report” was intentionally not cutting it. Nor is it like there are any lawns or properties that are eyesores in the subdivision. All I know is that whoever felt the need to call and complain about neighbors’ lawns being taller than typical could benefit from some “good neighbor” refresher coursework themselves.

Part of enforcement of these so-called “Good Neighbor” ordinances and laws should include investigation into if the person complaining did due diligence before filing a complaint. And, failure to have passed the due diligence test would result in a warning for false report, kind of like prank calling 911. It could go something like this. Ring ring. “Hello, city zoning inspector’s office, Ima Twerp speaking. Unhuh. Too long of grass, you say? Yes, that is serious business. We should get on that at once. First, let me get the whole story. I’ll need to ask you a few questions. Do you know the name of the people who live at the addresses you are complaining about? Have you spoken to them about your concern? I see, you don’t know their name, and you haven’t approached them about your concern. Well, it seems we have logged here in our database that you have called several times before about your concerns for various other neighbors, and your answers are very similar to those. I’m sorry, but there is nothing we can do other than to issue you a citation for repeatedly being a jerk and not knowing how to be neighborly yourself.” Click.

The whole thing about “Good Neighbor” laws is that they actually incent individuals to be bad neighbors, in that they don’t go out and walk with their neighbor on a regular basis, rebuilding the wall where the stones have fallen or been torn down. In fact, they certainly do not induce neighborly feelings in those who the anonymous whiners complain about. I have to admit, there were some less than Christ-like things I thought after having the code inspector show up on our doorstep. Things like, ‘Hope you enjoy all the grass clippings from our lawn in your driveway, jerk…’ or ‘May your lawn become diseased after being scalped by your professional lawn care service’s riding mowers… may it become the source of jokes behind your back in the subdivision, and whenever a child walks by your house, may you hear their cry of terror as they try to avoid your lawn’s hideous briars and thistles…’. And let’s not forget the ever popular “Flaming Bag of Poo” response that could be done on Halloween…

Oh well, those feelings kind of subsided by the time I finished cutting the lawn in the dark. I do hope you weren’t disturbed by that noise, as there were several of us in the neighborhood who were out that evening doing the same. That would not have been nice of us to disturb your rest and relaxation after a hard day at the office. But, I was wondering if maybe you’re the type of person who is so neighborly as to let your dog or cat run loose and doesn’t think anything of letting them do their business in our yard. Or maybe you’re the type of person who lets their dweebish loser high school age sons walk across our back yard every morning to get to the bus stop (thus killing the grass where they step when there is frost on it or ruining a pristine scene of snow that would make wonderful photographs with their unwelcome trespassing on our property). Maybe you’re the type who has no problem tossing your cigarette butts and other miscellaneous garbage out the car window to land in our yard. Maybe you’re the type who doesn’t give a second thought to sticking a realtor’s Open House or For Sale sign or Garage Sale sign at the corner of our yard without asking our permission. Maybe you’re the type that comes and parks your big ugly SUV along our yard and doesn’t bother to make sure your passenger side tires aren’t up over the curb in our grass to drop off or pick up your precious angels from school.

Of course, you are probably the same sort of wonderful person I want in my neighborhood that would have no problem whining to the city if we didn’t have the proper sort of landscape architecture to compliment yours, or would get upset because we didn’t water our lawn and the grass dries out too early in the summer, or can’t abide our patio furniture, or feels we are hicks because we don’t replace the cracked and settling slabs of concrete that make up our driveway.

Yes, Robert Frost said it well in his poem, Mending Wall… “Good fences make good neighbors.” Oh, but wait! How silly of me! Our subdivision doesn’t allow fences, so I guess that means you don’t need to trouble yourself in being a good neighbor.

Geology Field Notes

I guess one of the ideas behind blogging is for people to keep a journal. I don’t know if I like that idea, because ultimately, a blog is an open book in the sense anyone could read it if they find the website. A blog isn’t even really a book. It is a bunch of electrons arranged to form characters on a screen guided by software code. It is transitory, and could be gone just like that. And a journal is not typically an open book, nor it is not meant to be in so tenuous a medium that it could cease to exist by a random keystroke of power loss.

Among many other items of counsel and commandment, we as Latter-day Saints have been counseled to keep a journal for our own benefit and that of our posterity. As with all counsel and commandment given, we are promised blessings for heeding it. If we keep the counsel given to have a year’s supply of food and essential needs, we shall be blessed in times of need, or at the least, are promised that should an emergency or natural or man-made disaster befall us happen, we will not have need to fear. If we strive to hold regular family home evenings, we’re promised that there will be greater harmony and love in the family. If we magnify our callings, we in turn will be magnified. If we study the scriptures, we will gain knowledge and wisdom. If we seek out our kindred dead and live worthy of the temple, we can be the means of bringing salvation to them while keeping our covenants. If we pray, we are promised that we will receive answers to our prayers. If we repent and forgive, we will be forgiven.

I’ll openly admit in this open book of electrons called a blog, I am not good at journaling. In fact, I am horrendous at it. I have a vague concept of what the blessings of keeping a journal could be. In my pursuit to learn and understand who I am, reading from the journals of my late parents and other ancestors has indeed been a boon, as it brings memories of those individuals back to me. It provides a sort of framework that my personal tangential experience can be built upon. It gives a sense of familiarity to the days where life just seems so transitory.

That sense of familiarity is vital in a world where one has what sometimes feels like an exponentially increasing feeling of looking on from the sidelines. I think we all deep down probably recognize this feeling. We all react differently to it though. Some work at becoming the center of attention. Some work at making a name for themselves in their career or in art or in sports or in academia. Some delve into the mundane activities of day-to-day life. Some withdraw into themselves. Some get lost in the many and diverse distractions of our day. All of these are forms of dealing with something a former home teaching companion of mine once described to me.

This home teaching companion had only been a member of the church for a couple years, and hence was an adult convert to the Church as well as the whole concept of there really being a real purpose behind religion. I asked him one day “What is it like, to live day to day without the knowledge of The Gospel?” I indicated to him that I was really curious, because my having grown up in a family that had been members for 4 to 5 generations, I just couldn’t conceive of it. And to this day, I still can’t really. I even have an uncle who has admonished family members on more than one occasion in reference to our individual testimonies ‘How many millions of years have you known this?’

In describing where I was coming from to this man, I said I couldn’t fathom what meaningless it would put to life if everything that we know from having a knowledge of the Gospel was nothing more than just nice thoughts… For example what if there never really was a Jesus Christ… For example what if we weren’t really eternal beings and that this life is all there is. What a sense of hopelessness that would bring! Why would there be any reason for anyone to act in any sort of fashion than in their own self-interest, if all one had was to know that at any given moment they could be gone?

His reply was two words. ‘Silent desperation.’ How appropriate.

And here is the beauty in the simplicity of the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ! It is true! We do not just cease to exist! There is a reason for us to behave in a fashion that is moral and ethical other than just to be a nice person! We aren’t just a blip on the universe’s radar screen, mutated products of selective evolution from a lightening strike in a pool of random amino acids and other organic compounds billions of years ago!

We are, metaphorically speaking, students taking a final exam.

I remember the final exam for one of my Geology classes as a Geology major undergrad at BYU many years ago. It had been a long two weeks out in the desert heat of Arizona and Utah. We had seen everything from volcanic cinder cones in central Utah to the remnants of lava dams in the Grand Canyon at a very remote location. We had been buzzed by Air Force jets northwest of The Great Salt Lake and had woken up one morning to a foot of fresh snow on our tents at the top of Little Cottonwood Canyon. The professor had advised us long in advance that we would be having a field final. We stopped on the last day for lunch at a fast food location, and by then we knew for certain that the final was coming after we finished and all loaded back up in the vans. It seemed though we were heading back to Provo, when we pulled off the freeway at some little town named Kanarraville.

I think this was the canyon.

We pulled up to the head of a canyon outside of town, and the professor told us we had something like an hour or an hour and a half, and the final consisted of one task. We were to individually draw a geologic cross section describing what was occurring here. We could use all our field resources and notes we had taken over the past two weeks, but that we were on our own individually. We could go back into the canyon as far as the trail would take us until climbing was necessary.

Well, as time went by, more and more of us students were getting frustrated. We had gone the length of the canyon and easily recognized the formations and strata as part of the upper levels of the formations that make up much of the Grand Staircase. But they weren’t right. They were all mixed up. As time got closer, most of us were on the verge of panic… except a couple who hadn’t gone so far back in the canyon. They didn’t seem so concerned and were taking a leisurely stroll instead of continually crashing through the creek. As I passed them, I asked in frustration if they had figured it out. They grinned and said to go ask the graduate assistants for a hint. They were still up at the canyon’s mouth. There was only about 15 minutes left. I made my way back and expressed my frustration to them, as did several other students. They said, we can’t tell you, but since we gave a hint to those guys, well… and they nodded briefly in a direction not to far from the vans and said “Go look over there.” I did so, and suddenly it all made sense. I ended up being able to draw a cross section that essentially had most of the geology correct.

When time expired, the professor told our group to not worry too much if we hadn’t gotten it. He had brought graduate students from Kansas to this same canyon in years past, and after a week, they still had not gotten it. So, he hadn’t expected any of us undergrads to get it in less than 2 hours. And if we had, well we could pat ourselves on the back. As it turned out, this exam was not what we had feared… a pass fail evaluation for the course, but to see how well we could put things together in a complex system, to see how observant we were of micro things in a macro setting that didn’t seem to fit our preconceived model.

Our purpose is to figure out what is going on in the canyon of life. We each have a limited amount of time before we have to turn in our cross-section for grading. We’re on our own, so to speak, but we are free to and encouraged to use all the resources available to us. We have notes and some inherent wisdom we can utilize in the scriptures and in the Light of Christ. And we have grad students who won’t just nod in the general direction we need to look. The Lord’s prophets and apostles happily and openly point out the clues we need. One big difference is that at the end of this test, we will be ever so sorely sorry if we are not in a position to pat ourselves on the back.

And, for those of us who have received the clues, it is imperative that we pass the clues on to the others who haven’t yet. In this respect, we are able to make some part of this test a group effort, unlike the geology class test in the canyon. We won’t always get it right in the process of taking our test, or in the process of learning and understanding who we are. For that reason, I am grateful that our professor in the Gospel, Jesus Christ, not only allows but also commands us to change, to repent, and to improve our efforts. And this is why I am working on improving my journaling, even if just by blogging right now.

I’ll find some other medium for saving my writings for those who come after me, that they will never have to fear the lack of direction by missing clues I could have given… that not a one of them will be able to accuse me of saying they had to operate in silent desperation. So, maybe a blog being an open book of sorts is not such a bad thing. Many pick and choose what they record in their journals, even to the point of not recording at all. They feel their thoughts and feelings are just for themselves. They are so afraid of their own imperfections and failings, they can’t stand the embarrassment of others knowing anything different about them than the façade they put up. Or, they feel they have nothing of worth to pass on. I firmly hold that The Lord somehow records each individual’s deeds, acts, thoughts, and desires. At some point, everything that has not been reconciled with and through Him and His Atonement will become public domain. So it is in our best interest to live as best we can to follow His Gospel so that we as individuals are as open and true as He is… that we truly reflect the things we have ‘known for how many millions of years.’

We can’t just play Jonah and assume we can ignore the test.