PEACE AMONG MEN
“We, the peoples of the United Nations, determined to save succeeding generations from the scourge of war, which twice in our lifetime has brought untold sorrow to mankind, and to reaffirm faith in fundamental human rights, in the dignity and worth of the human person, in the equal right of men and women and of nations large and small… And for these ends to practice tolerance and live together in peace with one another as good neighbors… Have resolved to combine these efforts to accomplish our aims.”
- Charter of the United Nations
May 12, 1990
I woke up early this beautiful spring day and unlocked Maria’s death grip from my chest and slowly slid out of the water bed. She looked so peaceful and beautiful. It’s funny how I’ve fallen in love with the Southwest. Maria and I are opposites. She embodies the simple free culture of the SouthWest and I embody the critical thinking of a scientist. Maria’s skin is a light golden brown like the brown soil and red rock of the region. Her touch is as soft as a babies breath. She lives a simple, practical life embracing the 400 years of her culture’s barter economy. As a small child her family lived off the land. As a small child my father was hammering me with perfectionism and a need for scientific objectivity. She is deeply connected with the circle of life. I am attempting to find the center between a childhood of freedom and the demands of a father for scientific perfectionism. She doesn’t even concern herself with the world around her. All that concerns Maria is her family. I love that and wish that somehow I could be like that. Most of all, I like Maria’s jet black hair draped over her shoulder in the morning. It reminds me of the crow flying above the red rock canyons of Los Alamos.
The first thing I did this morning was go and get the Sunday paper. I walked out into the brisk morning air, the silence of the morning embracing me. My reveree was blasted by the sound of my neighbors arguing in their backyards. Their arguing caused a crow to rustle out of the trees in the back yard flying off screaming in anger. It’s important to note that our lots are generally about a quarter acre. They were yelling loudly. I trotted, with the paper in hand, down behind the house to see what was going on. Arnold Springer, a 38 year old extremely eccentric physicist, was being yelled at by Max Black. Max Black, a large, bald, angry 56 year old holds the county accessors office and has had his hands in many of the county construction projects. He also owns a large german sheppard notorious for roaming the neighborhood at will.
Most of the people don’t mind dogs roaming about up here as there is so much canyon to do so. But Jenny, Max’s dog, has been jumping the link fence around Arnold’s backyard grass for several years and shitting on his lawn. Last time I saw Arnold, he told me he had a suprise in store for Max.
I overheard Arnold, all 6’2” 140 pounds of him, tell Max, “..it serves you right Max. I’ve been cleaning up your dogs shit off my kids shoes for three years now and I’m tired of it. All I did was collect the shit in my wheel barrow and deliver it to the middle of your front yard.”
At first I thought Max was going to kill Arnold. Then he said, “You’ve degraded my name and insulted me real bad Arnold. I’m going to hurt you. I’m going to hurt you so bad you’ll wish you never set your cone head in this town.”
Max stalked off into his house and slammed the door. Arnold’s shoulders slumped and he turned to go back into his house. He saw me and came over.
“Did you hear that Len? I just couldn’t take that dog shitting in my yard any more. I put the chain link fence around the yard hoping to keep his dog out. I talked to him a hundred times to try and work something out. I even called the city to see if there was something I could do. They told me that I could file a complaint against Max for punitive damages and maybe get his dog put away. I didn’t want to do that to him, Len. I thought he would get the message with what I did. Now look at the situation. He’s ready to kill me.”
I could see he was really upset so I told him to take it easy, that it would all blow over in awhile.
“Just lay low and it will all blow over.”
What I want to know is this. How is it that we can live in a town supposedly responsible for wrestling the world’s freedom from psychotic facists by applying our vast intelligence but not be able to manage a situation where our neighbor’s dog shits in our yard?
Copyright © 1993 - 2010 Philip Regenie, All Rights Reserved
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