Last week the weather in Sacramento was in the low 100’s. So, of course, I chose last week to take down a lengthy fence, overgrown with various trees and thorny shrubs on both sides, along two sides of my property. My father and I labored mightily – digging out concreted posts, sawing down tree limbs as thick as pythons, moving literally tons of wood, and in the end building a structure that vaguely resembled the wall that kept King Kong on his side of Skull Island in the old black and white movie.
I didn’t build the fence because I hate my neighbor. Admittedly, he is a ‘progressive’, as is virtually everyone else in my Curtis Park neighborhood, and I am conservative. We disagree on a number of political and cultural issues that we rarely discuss. I have a Bush sticker on my car. He has a sign in his window opposing the war (strangely, he also has an old poster of Darth Vader displayed in his garage. When I pointed out that Darth Vader was hardly representative of progressive values he gave me a look that could melt butter and said that James Earl Jones – the voice of Mr. Vader – got shafted financially. I let it go.).
All that being said, the fence was not built as some sort of rampart from which I could hurl insults or cabbages at him. It was built because I firmly believe that good fences make good neighbors. For instance, the fence makes sure my Staffordshire Terrier, Felony, doesn’t fertilize my neighbor’s flowers. The fence makes it very clear whose problem day to day issues are to deal with – like yesterday when a dead squirrel fell from one of our trees, hit the fence (hmmmm… I assume he was dead before he fell), and landed on my side. The rule: mine to deal with as I see fit, with no comment from the neighbor unless I invite him to the burial. I water the plants on my side, he does or does not water the plants on his side, and so on. And while the fence simply defines these responsibilities and rights, it doesn’t stop us from talking, from getting together when we see fit, or from making collective decisions on matters of mutual interest – like what to do about all the tree limbs I hacked off and left in the street in front of his house.
**There is more – click the link**
July 2nd, 2006 at 12:00 am
Thinly veiled Dichiara.
Fence…respecting the rules…SNOWCONE MACHINE! Come on. Its all analogous to the illegal immigration struggle.
I know becaue were I poor and underemployed nothing would stop me from getting my hands on a cherry snowcone…hey the Orange County Fair is just around the corner, I think they sell snowcones.
July 2nd, 2006 at 12:00 am
And if your neighbor had the resources to feed his family but refused, and they were hungry, you might call the authrorites who would use the full force of the law to make your neighbor live up to his obligations.
Hey, here’s an idea. Send the UN to Mexico on a peace keeping mission to make our neighbor live up to its obligation so family members don’t have to steal snowcones.
July 2nd, 2006 at 12:00 am
Glad to see Probolsky picked up on the analogy. The OC crew must be smarter than I first thought.
That aside, the analogy is outstanding! Instant classic Duane.
July 2nd, 2006 at 12:00 am
When you rebuilt your fence – was it higher and stronger? I know I just recently re-did my side property but my neighbor and I split the costs! Now there’s an angle…
July 2nd, 2006 at 12:00 am
Anyway I could buy the video of Duane using tools, working in the heat and sunshine? To those of us that know and love Duane, this video would outsell Girls Gone Wild (at the Orange County Fair, no less).
July 3rd, 2006 at 12:00 am
I’m sorry not to have been an eye-witness to this Fence effort.
I had the privilege of meeting Duane’s father once, and the acorn
did not fall too far from the tree. Dichiara Senior is a born leader,
and any marauding squirrels or neighbors would steer a wide path
around that Human Dynamo!
There are people you may meet a single time, but never forget.
Duane’s Father is one of those people.
July 15th, 2006 at 12:00 am
NO doubt about it,I must be a living anacronizm or at best a paleo-con.
MY how the decades do fly.
I actually remember growing up; literally “ON” — and often over– our southern border.
A time when it was very much like Duane’s fence.
It had’nt yet become a source of power and money.
there was proud men on both sides of the border that would never harm the others ability to feed ,cloth and put a roof over the heads of their families.
that was the line no man would cross.
What have we got to lose ??
Build the fence and get governments out of our way.
Once again we may have a border ruled by the hearts of good men.