Take the case of Ronald and Patricia K. of suburban Cleveland (names changed for legal reasons). In January 2010, their neighbor’s tree dropped a limb on their garage. The neighbor refused to pay the insurance deductible. Ronald retaliated by trimming the offending branch at 6 a.m. with a chainsaw. The neighbor called the police for a noise violation. Ronald then installed a 6-foot privacy fence – painted high-visibility orange on the neighbor’s side.
There’s – the family with four cars, a boat, and a recreational vehicle, all of which occupy the street in front of your house, leaving you to park three blocks away in February slush.
But the most insidious is . This is the neighbor who waits until you leave for work, then hires a contractor to pave, plant, or build six inches onto your side of the plat map. By the time you notice the new shed’s shadow falling on your azaleas, the concrete is dry. “Oh,” they’ll say, eyes wide with practiced innocence. “We thought that old survey was wrong.” The 2010 Context: Why Now? Why is this behavior spiking in the winter of 2010? Two words: Economic anxiety . Naughty Neighbors 2010-02
As the groundhog prepares to make his annual prediction, perhaps the only forecast that matters is this: the naughty neighbor isn’t going anywhere. He’s out there now, revving his snowblower at 6:30 a.m. on a Saturday. The only question is – what are you going to do about it?
There’s – the guy in the split-level who believes his new 1,200-watt subwoofer is a public good. At 11 p.m. on a Tuesday, as you’re trying to wind down from a 10-hour shift, his living room becomes a nightclub. The drywall vibrates. Your toddler cries. He yells, “It’s not even 11:30 yet!” Take the case of Ronald and Patricia K
Pass the earplugs. And the plat map. This feature was originally conceived as a slice of suburban cultural observation for early 2010, reflecting the anxieties and irritations of the post-recession era.
February 2010 – The snow has melted just enough to reveal what’s been hiding since December: a collection of dog waste bags tossed into the azaleas, a garden gnome now decapitated, and a newly installed chain-link fence that cuts three feet into a neighboring property line. The neighbor refused to pay the insurance deductible
In February 2010, we are tired, broke, and cooped up. The holidays are a distant, debt-ridden memory. Spring is a rumor. The line between “reasonable request” and “unhinged demand” blurs. That pile of snow you shoveled onto the edge of his driveway? You thought it was harmless. He thought it was war.