Back in the day when I was a Councillor I worried that if there were no seniors in town I’d become redundant.
After all the majority of concerns directed my way came from those in their sunset years.
That man who picks up the garbage is an hour late today.
Those teenagers are loitering in the mall again.
The dandelions are out of control on the north side of New Street.
I’ve got squirrels in my backyard and it is my neighbour’s fault.
Please take care of this?
Yes sir. Yes ma’am.
Local government is closest to the people and your concerns are mine, as they say. So I took care of it - mostly.
I’m older now, pushing sixty. Wiser, I’m not sure?
But now I’ve got my own problems - GARAGE SALES.
You ask what could be wrong with these down-to earth community events?
They’re neighbourly, promote recycling and help people make a few bucks.
But the guy across the street is having five or six a year. So is someone further down the block. Patrons, if that is what they are called, wake me and my true love up early on Saturday mornings; they block our driveway; and frankly just annoy me.
My neighbour, the guy who used to gripe about my son playing ball hockey in the street, is the focus of my ire. I’m sure you’ve got neighbours like this too.
After his last garage sale he took off faster than a pick pocket being chased by Donovan Bailey and came back soon – it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes later - with stuff, garage sale stuff, that he is going to offer up to the public at his next sale and that will probably be next weekend.
There must be a by-law on this. And if there isn’t there should be.
I’m calling my Councillor. I mean he works for me, doesn’t he? And if he won’t do something about it I’ll write a by-law myself.
And if he doesn’t support it, well he better be getting some job counselling soon because he’ll be looking for work after the next election.
When is the next election anyway?