Thursday, July 29, 2010

Shedding


(this sweet little sketch came from somewhere on the web. Claim it, so I can thank you for it)



Vildy wanted a shed. We call it a "Man-Barn"; a place to house the ugly, the smelly, the broken and the filthy. Our garage, already full-up with the boxed, the moldy, the half used and the I'll-get-to-its, made it only sensible to build a giant outbuilding. I think V wanted the structure for the practical reasons, but also because he'd impulsively bought a giant framing nailer at a yard sale. The gnarly thing fires long nails into wood with a shuttering, cannon-like report. I think the purchase of this tool and subsequent project was a little like buying impractical shoes and then throwing yourself a party so you can wear them. So Vild went to Home Depot and bought a bunch of 2x4's and about three dozen clips of ammo for his big, loud, nail gun, then threw a party for himself and his giant tool.

He built the shed in a weekend, complete with shingled roof, never asking me for help, except to hold a wall vertical while he nailed it in place. He painted it barn-red, yes, and it was perfectly excellent, sitting there at the top of our driveway. We filled it with all sorts of crappy stuff, and the man-barn kept it all warm and dry.

Then we got a letter from the township.

The Man-Barn was sitting too close to the property line. This is stupid for two reasons. One, we live between a cow flop and a soy bean. A drunk guy fires guns next door from his barcalounger for heaven's sake. No one would notice or care if I rode my lawn mower naked, streaming flypaper, while belting out the Ride of the Valkyries. The other reason its stupid is because we own the adjacent lot, a big wooded hill that would be ridiculous to build on, ever. So they were siting us on a technicality. He'd built something too close to a property line that he shares, with himself. Ah, bureaucracy, you never disappoint.

But sometimes you must genuflect to the Man in all his stubborn, paper-pushing, poorly attended, micro-power, minutes taken, triplicate-filing, fees paid wisdom. Vild attended the zoning board meeting.

Fifteen minutes later he stormed out of the zoning board meeting.

He had to move the Man-Barn twenty feet.

The following video explains so much about why I love Vild, and why you can live in a place if you have someone like this living with you.

Hey Zoning Board, guess which finger I'm holding up.

4 comments:

  1. Holy shit! You guys moved it? You guys get the "I have more balls than city hall award."

    H Martin

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  2. i love this story so much. i get a real kick out of watching bureaucracy in action. go schickel/vilds!

    Joanna D

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  3. You just know they'll pass an ordinance siting "hilarious moving of structures down driveways to alternative locations" without necessary permits and fees attached thereto endangering something or other."

    ReplyDelete