Thy Neighbors' Couch

For the last ten weeks or so, I have been gazing upon a discarded living room set across the street in a front yard of a townhouse. With a combination of irritation and humor, I practiced forbearance. It did become somewhat amusing to see how long it could go before something gave. I named it Abraham's Acres, a place of rest for weary travelers between Lancaster and York. I posted weekly updates on Facebook which at least some of my friends found funny.

I thought about knocking on the door to ask them if I could assist them with its disposal. I didn't want to act like a jerk but I am a firm believer that neighborhoods degrade because no one seems to care about trash, loud music, barking dogs, ignorant parking, etc. All these minor signs of incivility grow like weeds. And once there is enough weeds, it chokes the health of the neighborhood. The bad element moves in, crime goes up. Yada, yada, yada. Maybe I am selfish, but I just don't like my car windows broken for spare change.

I thought maybe the people in there were working in health care and had other things to worry about. I contemplated paying a trash hauler just to remove it and foot the bill. I considered writing them a letter offering my assistance and cc'ing a copy to the West Hempfield staffer responsible for enforcing such things as prompt garbage removal. But, I didn't. I just decide to wait it out as if on a vigil. Ah, the pearl of great price fashioned through irritation. Pearly soul, I am. 

I didn't want to identify myself. I have learned that people who don't practice adequate socially-normed behavior, like the dude who stole my recycling bin, typically are not inclined to accept helpful tips, let alone confrontation. So, I was going to provide my Google number in my anonymous correspondence that I retain for such purposes, when I don't want my main cell # to fall in the hands of individuals with attitude problems, but who I may have to interact with over some matter. I have a junk email through Comcast for the same reason. I would never put my main email address book in the hands of Comcast. They have a thousand ways to tie people to their hegemony and I am not going along with it. Neither would I give my permanent email to a temporary contact.

Well, the other day, the forlorn furniture has been removed. About a week ago, one of the tenants had moved the set to back against the front of the townhouse in order to mow the growing grass which was turning Abraham's Acres into a Wetlands Wildlife Preserve. So, the damn was breaking. Then sometime this weekend, it has all been removed, perhaps to the backyard. I don't really care.

I mentioned that I practiced forbearance. It was hard for me to not react to the trashiness. I am not some asshole who likes sticking my nose in others' business like a autocratic Condo Association, but I expect people to take care of their shit and not cause quality of life issues for myself and the neighbors. Loving our neighbors, as Jesus instructs, is holding them to the standard of putting into practice the dignity that God has placed within them. Act like a civilized member of the human race. Paul makes a comment that God will destroy those who defile their bodies in sinful behavior. So, God will just finish off what we have started and put an end to it once and for all.