Woofing In My ‘Hood

Bark. Bark.

That’s my dog in the neighborhood “fight” sounding off on the matter. Down, boy. Down.

My son emailed me a screenshot of some Facebook commentary regarding a post I’d written Friday that focused on the battle between competing visions of personal rights occurring one street over on Dahlia.

The point of my blog post was, and continues to be, that only selfish individuals ignore laws and standards of common decency in pursuit of self-gratification or petty revenge, or maybe both.

Most of us outgrew this long ago, at least by the time we had moved out on our own. But some have not. And this is why communities must have zoning rules, because there always will be some who choose to mock convention and dare anyone to call them on it.

In an irony that is commonplace, some of the biggest lamenters over needing to be compelled to do the right thing have the most skeletons in the closet, at least as measured by a search of the Pennsylvania Unified Judicial System portal, a ready digital repository of misdeeds one can access by searching by name or case number.

Speaking of which, my name is readily attached to anything I write. Congrats to the social media types who use their names on their posts. Those who hide between silly made up names prompt legitimate inquiry as to why they feel the need to do so?

And now I think I will let the neighborhood fight dog out to defecate on someone else’s property, in the spirit of the times, and then go to bed.