Suburbia...WGASA?
I've been living in the suburbs now for five years, and it still feels like I'm living with aliens. My father still regularly gets lost in the same shopping mall parking lot we've been going to for years. And I still can't figure out why nothing is on a damn grid; I don't understand the meandering, long roads with some random buildings and neighborhoods plopped down with streets going in random directions and not alphabetized. Seemingly simple aspects of suburban life are still baffling to me. For instance, I don't think that three crimes within a two month period does not constitute a crime wave. It is especially not a crime wave if your car was stolen from the supermarket while the car was running. Fools! The less there is to worry about, the more concerned people seem. In D.C., you used street smarts and just got on with life; here, there's crippling fear of pretty much everything.
There are a few of us who are exiles from the city and have some sort of perspective. Many of our neighbors do not. The city is a pestilential,crime-ridden hole to be avoided whenever possible. And people from the city can get out to my neighborhood using the subway. You know what that means, don't you? Those people can use the subway to get to our peaceful haven. Some peaceful basketball players were driven from our neighborhood park because the neighbors thought they were bringing a bad element in. I was actually angry about that, rather than amused. It's good to have people around at night because people are less likely to attack you and take advantage of you when there are other people around. You're actually probably safer with the basketball players playing in the park than if you were wandering the neighborhood alone at night, with no one around. And no one's going to come of the subway and steal your damn television; the fear is irrational. People ride the subway, and they notice things; a suburban man driving away with your television in his back seat is a much more likely scenario.
Nor do I understand mailboxes. In D.C., we use mailslots. You know why? Because people would steal your damn mail just for the hell of it, because they liked you magazines, or because they were trying to steal your identity. So I've never quite wrapped my mind a round the mailbox, or the idea of leaving mail in your mailbox to have the mailman pick it up. For people who seem to fear everything but air, and sometimes even that (pollen allergies, you know), they sure do leave their mail trustingly in what seems to me to be a rather public area. It's just an invitation to have something go awry.
Then there's this thing with the lawn mowers. My parents were sort of horrified at the prospect of having to mow a lawn, having not encountered such trifles at our old house. Our neighborhood isn't one with lush, expansive lawns. They are barely enough to justify power mowers. But for some reason we're the only people on the block with a push mower. I cringe every Sunday morning as they all fire up the power mowers in unison and jerk it around the postage stamp lawns. Why Sunday morning? Why?!
The most pervasive thing is the need to appear like there is no 'bad element' living here. I admit that I appreciate some of conveniences, but I'm not sure it's worth it. While I appreciate that the mailmen don't steal cash and checks out of envelopes and then deliver the empty envelopes or keep Christmas packages that seem interesting, it's not enough. It's nice to have my trash picked up every week, sure, but we have to pay extra for it, plus the charge of recycling. The homeowner's association bans the following things:
1. washing your car in front of the house
2. painting your house something other than 5 pre-approved, bland colors
3. growing watermelon in your front yard (our Taiwanese transplant neighbors are the reason for the creation of this rule)
4. LETTING YOUR LAWN GROW TALLER THAN FOUR INCHES. After that, your NEIGHBORS have the right to complain, and you can be fined if you don't mow within 7 days. Our neighbor across the alley complained once about our back yard (a fenced in yard, I would like to note), having had the audacity to let himself in and measure our grass with a ruler. After the first year, we never made the mistake of not mowing again.
5. leave your garbage out before 10 o'clock at night the day before trash day.
To all of these rules I respond: WGASA. Who gives a shit, anyhow?
Technorati Tags: suburbs, mail, fear
There are a few of us who are exiles from the city and have some sort of perspective. Many of our neighbors do not. The city is a pestilential,crime-ridden hole to be avoided whenever possible. And people from the city can get out to my neighborhood using the subway. You know what that means, don't you? Those people can use the subway to get to our peaceful haven. Some peaceful basketball players were driven from our neighborhood park because the neighbors thought they were bringing a bad element in. I was actually angry about that, rather than amused. It's good to have people around at night because people are less likely to attack you and take advantage of you when there are other people around. You're actually probably safer with the basketball players playing in the park than if you were wandering the neighborhood alone at night, with no one around. And no one's going to come of the subway and steal your damn television; the fear is irrational. People ride the subway, and they notice things; a suburban man driving away with your television in his back seat is a much more likely scenario.
Nor do I understand mailboxes. In D.C., we use mailslots. You know why? Because people would steal your damn mail just for the hell of it, because they liked you magazines, or because they were trying to steal your identity. So I've never quite wrapped my mind a round the mailbox, or the idea of leaving mail in your mailbox to have the mailman pick it up. For people who seem to fear everything but air, and sometimes even that (pollen allergies, you know), they sure do leave their mail trustingly in what seems to me to be a rather public area. It's just an invitation to have something go awry.
Then there's this thing with the lawn mowers. My parents were sort of horrified at the prospect of having to mow a lawn, having not encountered such trifles at our old house. Our neighborhood isn't one with lush, expansive lawns. They are barely enough to justify power mowers. But for some reason we're the only people on the block with a push mower. I cringe every Sunday morning as they all fire up the power mowers in unison and jerk it around the postage stamp lawns. Why Sunday morning? Why?!
The most pervasive thing is the need to appear like there is no 'bad element' living here. I admit that I appreciate some of conveniences, but I'm not sure it's worth it. While I appreciate that the mailmen don't steal cash and checks out of envelopes and then deliver the empty envelopes or keep Christmas packages that seem interesting, it's not enough. It's nice to have my trash picked up every week, sure, but we have to pay extra for it, plus the charge of recycling. The homeowner's association bans the following things:
1. washing your car in front of the house
2. painting your house something other than 5 pre-approved, bland colors
3. growing watermelon in your front yard (our Taiwanese transplant neighbors are the reason for the creation of this rule)
4. LETTING YOUR LAWN GROW TALLER THAN FOUR INCHES. After that, your NEIGHBORS have the right to complain, and you can be fined if you don't mow within 7 days. Our neighbor across the alley complained once about our back yard (a fenced in yard, I would like to note), having had the audacity to let himself in and measure our grass with a ruler. After the first year, we never made the mistake of not mowing again.
5. leave your garbage out before 10 o'clock at night the day before trash day.
To all of these rules I respond: WGASA. Who gives a shit, anyhow?
Technorati Tags: suburbs, mail, fear
posted by Meredith at 4:40 PM
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