Naughty Neighbors 2010-02 -

February 2010 – The snow has melted just enough to reveal what’s been hiding since December: a collection of dog waste bags tossed into the azaleas, a garden gnome now decapitated, and a newly installed chain-link fence that cuts three feet into a neighboring property line.

As the groundhog prepares to make his annual prediction, perhaps the only forecast that matters is this: the naughty neighbor isn’t going anywhere. He’s out there now, revving his snowblower at 6:30 a.m. on a Saturday. The only question is – what are you going to do about it? Naughty Neighbors 2010-02

In February 2010, we are tired, broke, and cooped up. The holidays are a distant, debt-ridden memory. Spring is a rumor. The line between “reasonable request” and “unhinged demand” blurs. That pile of snow you shoveled onto the edge of his driveway? You thought it was harmless. He thought it was war. February 2010 – The snow has melted just

The Great Recession’s shadow looms large. People who are underwater on their mortgages can’t move. They’re stuck. And when you can’t flee a bad situation, you fight for every inch of territory. The home, once a sanctuary, has become a cage. And the neighbor’s leaf blower at 7 a.m. on a Sunday isn’t just noise – it’s an assault on the last thing you feel you own: peace and quiet. on a Saturday

Take the case of Ronald and Patricia K. of suburban Cleveland (names changed for legal reasons). In January 2010, their neighbor’s tree dropped a limb on their garage. The neighbor refused to pay the insurance deductible. Ronald retaliated by trimming the offending branch at 6 a.m. with a chainsaw. The neighbor called the police for a noise violation. Ronald then installed a 6-foot privacy fence – painted high-visibility orange on the neighbor’s side.

Pass the earplugs. And the plat map. This feature was originally conceived as a slice of suburban cultural observation for early 2010, reflecting the anxieties and irritations of the post-recession era.