What is it about people, Americans (I almost gag when I even think it), who think nothing of assuming they have a right to dictate how his neighbor uses his own property when it has no real impact on him?
I was listening to John Carlson’s radio show yesterday on KVI 570 Seattle (welcome back John) and he did a segment on neighbor A filing an official complaint with government because neighbor B cut down an araucaria (Monkey Puzzle tree)—on neighbor B’s own property.
I love trees. I hate it when my neighbors cut down trees I enjoy looking at. It especially annoys me when it’s a new neighbor; I mean, why did he buy the place if he didn’t like it the way it was? If you don’t like trees, move to Nebraska or Kansas for Pete’s sake, not western Washington State. But, should I also have a say when my neighbor sells his classic 1965 Ford Mustang and buys a butt-ugly 2010 purple Prius? Ridiculous, right? His tree; his car; what’s the difference?
I can look up and down my street at any moment and see things I don’t like: The Obama signs lingering in livingroom windows, the grotesque “art” assaulting the view, and the guy up the hill who just spent a couple years, annoyingly, renovating his house. However, I have to admit the house turned out great, but then he goes and paints the damn thing some lime green shade that looks like it runs on electricity—yuck! But, it’s simply not my business.
Our American liberty is under assault like never before and unfortunately, rather than just overzealous, progressive politicians and bureaucrats, we have to worry about our own Gladys Kravitz neighbors sticking their noses into our business because it offends their anti-liberty sensibilities. What a shame it’s come to this in, of all places, America.
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