The Bauhaus emblem, designed by Oskar Schlemmer (adopted 1921)
"I'd prefer to inhabit The People's Republic Of These United States …"

The place we're exiting was built as a sort of latter-day attempt at Utopian development. Its developers sought to combine several conflicting conditions. Paradoxically, they intended to maintain original land use by leaving large swaths permanently open so that the buildings would not displace the native elk herd from its historical habitat. The developers also intended to build houses people could actually afford, so they built graded sizes, from condos to what we now call McMansions. The county and state land use laws never intended to govern such enterprises, Colorado having historically leaned toward the presumed right for any landowner to do whatever they damned well pleased on their property. The company adopted certain covenants and insisted that all inhabitants agree to abide by these as a condition of buying in. Later, a management company took over responsibility for collecting fees, maintaining public spaces, and assessing fines. These private agreements supplement the public law in this neighborhood, presumably for the common good, but as generations of decent people had already proven, no law ever adequately compensated for any absence of decency.

I have been free, for instance, to paint this house any of a half-dozen approved colors. Originally, every place here had a cedar shingle roof, but after a few shingle-shattering hail storms and with ever-increasing fire danger, the HomeOwner's Association began insisting upon owners using sturdier materials. Fences were originally banned, but eventually came to require formal approval from the HOA's Architectural Committee, who receives requests and either grants or rejects permission. Before our time, one neighbor decided to develop the open lot adjacent to his place, terracing and planting, only to run afoul of the covenants. He was ordered to return that land to its native state, an effort that cost him thousands of dollars. Another neighbor left his garbage cans outside of his over-crowded garage then ignored subsequent requests from the HOA to rectify this situation. (Garbage in this development attracts bears and so is strictly forbidden outside, except on garbage collection day. I'll forever remember this as a place of stinky garages.) He had also chosen to store some equipment in his driveway, a clear violation of what was originally a rule that even disallowed parking cars outside of garages. He received a thousand dollar fine for his troubles. He says he's suing, but he'll most certainly lose. He agreed to abide by these onerous rules.

The Muse and I relocated here from perhaps the most diverse and democratic city in the country, the much-revered and equally reviled The People's Republic of Takoma Park, Maryland. There, the citizens vote on everything, attempting to reach consensus at pretty much any cost. No issue seems too trivial to warrant some lobbying and voting, and the citizens engage in continual bickering as their chief form of civic engagement. This can be exhilarating but also exhausting. Originally a conservative enclave, most of the conservatives bled away after greater diversity relocated there. Now, purple houses seem ordinary. Little uniformity seems wanted or necessary. Customs continue to run deep, and had we not had a caring neighbor, we would have probably been in continual violation of something, but the city itself seems far more diverse and tolerant than most and still relies upon democratic processes to govern itself. The people there are justly proud of themselves.

This West didn't turn out to be nearly as wild as we'd anticipated. Down in Denver and its ever-expanding suburbs, neighborhoods remain remarkably fragmented. We discovered when we were shopping for this place that land use laws there seemed to encourage more abuse of the land than preservation, and this governance was already imbedded generations deep in the culture. This place appeared on The Muse's original list of prospects, but she'd avoided it because she knew of my aversion to HomeOwner's Associations and their often racist covenants. They exclude by subtle tenet, and I never wanted to live in a world like that, yet even I eventually bought in. When civil society shirks its duties, people will attempt to compensate, producing little dictatorships in the process, if only to preserve their sacred property values. We signed the covenant. We have no basis for complaint. I will not mention the subtle coercion underlying our agreement.

Now, The Muse and I are liberating ourselves back into civil society where we will once again rely upon public facilities for our health and safety. This will be a messy business because Democracy inevitably produces messes. We might help and encourage ever more perfect unions without ever once actually experiencing any perfected ones. Our aspirations will actually govern, prior configurations long-ago having conclusively proven that no one can successfully legislate against any lack in innate decency. One of our neighbors here decided to paint their place a garish unapproved color, seemingly just to share their lack of fashion sense. The HOA busted their ass and forced them to repaint using a previously approved hue. They moved shortly thereafter. The challenge of governance never ultimately depends upon the power of any policing force, but upon an almost uncommon decency among the citizens. Over the prior four years, I noticed a shameless attempt to normalize indecency into one of the higher forms of liberty, an attempt that encouraged the worst while reinforcing a deeper and, I hope, finally unshakable sense that we have better occupations than trying to make each other miserable with our presence. I'd prefer to inhabit The People's Republic Of These United States, if, as Benjamin Franklin famously cautioned, "we can keep it." That jury's still out.

©2021 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #HeadingHomeward, #PureSchmaltz