Pool Season
The Pool at Big Pink is going to open in precisely two weeks, and it is time to get serious. Actually, Mary Margaret got me serious while I was still in the Little Village by the Bay, texting me that the cover was off the pool and the porter staff was power-washing the deck.
Jiggs got me serious when he called to tell me that the new earnest idiot on the Covenants Committee was making another run at the designated smoking area on the pool deck. I sighed. There could be all manner of mischief, and the delay caused by the flight cancellation, enhanced security and jihadi jitters made getting to the special meeting problematic.
I was on the ground in Washington is sufficient time to don a crisp aloha shirt and slacks to appear businesslike for the meeting, though, and had a cigar on Jigg’s porch before we went up to appear for the open comment period at the beginning of the meeting. That is the only time that the residents are permitted to speak. The rest of the meeting we are expected to sit quietly and not bother the grown-ups.
The Board had a quorum, which consisted of President Bruce, the Mad Latvian, Peggy from the Management Company, the Treasurer, and the Doc’s husband who is serving out the term of that Weasel who instituted the smoking ban last year and then fled the building.
There were only the three of us civilians there. One was a woman I had not met before, newly arrived to the building, and interested in getting involved with things. She was bright and perky and I immediately distrusted her.
Jiggs and I made the one-two punch after President Bruce called us to order. We stood, respectfully, and announced our names, status as owners, and unit numbers.
I made my little pitch, the one about Rodney King and why couldn’t we all just get along that I would start a petition again, just like last year, not in order to force people to breath second-hand smoke, but rather that the intrusion of the Nanny State was offensive and broke a tradition of individual liberty on the pool deck nearly a half century old.
Jiggs followed on with an argument about unintended consequences, and the butts that were going to pile up at the intersection of the walkways outside the pool gate if the smokers were forced to leave the pool deck and congregated by Tony’s place on the first floor, and how it was a mess and better controlled right where it was.
“Besides,” he said. “They are all dying off anyway.”
President Bruce took the matter under consideration and the Mad Latvian offered a motion that include no food, no diving and preservation of the designated smoking area. “There is no diving board anymore, so it just makes sense,” he said.
The Board voted solemnly and the Rules were amended unanimously. Jiggs and I stood, being single issue advocates, and went back downstairs to have a cocktail in celebration.
According to a well places source, apparently the popinjay from the EPA and the Covenants Committee showed up a half hour late, and there would have been a battle royal, but he was informed that the open session had passed, the motion had been carried and he was shit-out-of luck.
Battle over for this season, and with the economy about to tank, who knows if I will be here to fight the battle again for the summer of 2012, you know?
Democracy is good, sometimes, if you have the deck stacked right.
Copyright 2011 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com