Eviction Notice: the excessively multi-generation household

For the most part, I enjoy the neighborhood that I live in.  The vast majority of the people who live here are friendly and/or mind their own business.  This one Karen in the neighborhood whom I had some heat with actually died a few years ago, and her surviving family is a big sausage party that seems to mind their own business.  We do have an HOA, but it is run by the community and not outsourced to some bullshit company, and our annual dues aren’t egregious and we do actually get a few parties throughout the year to kind of justify the money we dump into the HOA.

But let’s just be real here, there are always going to be households in everyone’s communities that ruffles a few feathers, and obviously I am no exception.  Some behaviors are less savory than others, and depending on whom one might ask, might be perceived as anything as total assholes to first-world problems.  Instead of trying to ignore the problem or the neighbors, we just fantasize about waving a magic wand and straight up just evicting from the existing in the neighborhood; nobody wants to see anyone hurt, you just want them out of your neighborhood, and hopefully replaced with someone else who doesn’t suck.

The difference is, most people keep these general grievances to themselves or within their own households, but for people like me, they become brogging content.

The first household that comes to mind as one that I’d like to magically evict from the community is what I like to refer to as, the excessively multi-generation household.  This is a home where the actual homeowners are probably right at or adjacent to full-blown senior citizen status and are most likely original owners of their home.  In fact, they themselves are rather nice and polite people, and I’ve never had a negative interaction with them before.

It’s just the circumstances in which their household exists that causes me some annoyance, and probably to others in the neighborhood if they were to stop and think about it.

So the OG owners here, they have like 3-4 grown adult children, whom have all appeared to have gotten married themselves and spawned numerous children.  One of these adult offspring still lives in the OG home with their spouse and children, presumably in the basement, seeing as how they have a finished basement with a separate entrance.  Which brings the resident count to somewhere between 5-7 people, including the OG elderly husband and wife.

The thing is, the other adult kids are always over at the OG parents’ house, along with all of their entire families, so it’s like at any given point the house is overflowing with like 10-15 people, depending on how many of their adult kids are over with their kids.  It doesn’t take a genius to surmise that the adult kids are over as often as they are, because grandma and grandpa are near, and usually willing to be free childcare, while their parents can coast with their lives knowing they have trustworthy hands available to parent in their laziness.

As a result, this is a home that always has a full driveway, and almost always has cars spilling out onto street parking, which is something I always find obnoxious no matter the circumstances, especially in a community like ours where just about every house has a driveway that can accommodate 6+ cars without breaking a sweat.  Plus, their home is situated on both a hill and a curve, which means that all other passing traffic has to exorcise extra caution when passing their home, because they won’t be able to see past whatever truck, minivan or SUV is parked on the street.

It’s not just about the parking malady they often create with their reliance and exploitation of the OG owners.  It’s the fact that all the adult kids and their own offspring take advantage and enjoy all of the benefits that actual homeowners are privy to, just because their parents still live in the home and maybe they once did too many moons ago.

When we have a block party, their household rolls up 15 people deep, when two are actual HOA due paying homeowners and the rest are their freeloading kids and their kids on top of it.  They come an eat a ton of food and their kids play on the bounce house and water slides that our community rents for children of the residents.  It just irks me in an unpleasant manner that no, I don’t want to just, not worry about, because it’s bullshit and it’s not fair to the rest of the community that actually lives here.

One year, we had a pool opening party, and this entire household rolled in 14 people deep.  Again, they’re helping themselves to the food that my dues went towards, but worst of all were all their fucking kids in the pool, splashing and taking up space, and I’m trying to enjoy wading around with my daughters, while these freeloaders are just all over the fucking place inadvertently splashing my kids with their rambunctiousness.

I’m not the only one to have noticed this exploitation of the rules at least as far as the pool is concerned, because when the pool opened up this year, as a gentle reminder when the rules of the pool were distributed for the season, there was an interesting new bullet stating that “only eight people allowed per household,” which I’m fairly certain applies to pretty much just them.  But it’s not like anyone can really enforce it, and I’d wager money that there’ve probably been multiple occasions in which these leeches took over the pool 12+ people deep.

The funny thing is, even though I’m not particularly keen on how much this household takes advantage of the general friendly disposition of the community, I’ve never had any negative interactions with them, personally.  Whenever I’ve spoken with any of the adults at any of our community functions, they’re all nice and cordial, if not aloof and a little negligent when it comes to parenting.  I’m sure they’re decent human beings as individuals.

But when the day is over, I’d rather just evict the entire household.  Just this past weekend, I had to wait an excessive amount of time while OG granddad struggled to back a trailer into the driveway, because there were already four other cars in it and a truck on the side walk, so just being able to pass was impossible until he was finished.

Had the home been occupied by one of the more normal households, with single families, no more than 2-3 vehicles and no freeloading adult offspring, the roads are clearer, safer and less congested with overpopulation bullshit.

So in conclusion, if I had a magic wand that could humanely remove them from my community, evicted!

Dannyspeak: Overpopulated Days

Like most people out there, we tend to have our own personal vernaculars.  Phrases that we use, mostly in private, but sometimes out in the wild, which occasionally requires explanation.  Most of the time, people scrunch their eyebrows and are dubious about the use of particular phrases, but occasionally others adopt such things, and introduce it into their own vernacular.

I don’t know why, but I’ve often felt the compulsion to write about my use of the general term “overpopulation;” it’s sat in my drafts file as a topic to write about on more than one occasion, but I’ve never actually taken the time to actually write about it.  Seeing as how my writing habits have become quite strained throughout the last few weeks and months, mostly due to work trying to suck the ever-living life out of me, I’m always trying to improve my motivation and capability to write, and no matter how bad things get, writing is the one hobby and outlet that I really do not want to let fall too far off the rails, and much like being able to run a mile at any drop of a hat, I always want to be able to write whenever I feel like it.

There are two places in which I most frequently decide that the world is too overpopulated: the parking lot at work, or at the gym. 

Being the creature of habit that I am, it shouldn’t be much of a surprise that I wish to park in the same parking spot every single day.  In order to accomplish that, I realize that I need to pick somewhere that isn’t necessarily rockstar parking, right next to the entrance of the office, but somewhere where I could (hopefully) reliably get the same spot on a regular basis.  That being said, my preferred spot is one floor up from the main entrance, but fairly close to the stairs, so I can traverse one flight of stairs and be at the aforementioned rockstar entrance.

For a while, it was pretty nice, getting the same spot on a daily basis.  I knew I could be five minutes earlier or five minutes later than the usual arrival time, and it would be there, and I took comfort in knowing that I basically had a consistent place to park.

But then, much to my dismay, I rolled into the parking lot one day, and there was a fucking pickup truck in my spot.  It pissed me off royally, and I hoped this was a one-off occurrence.  But then the truck was there the next day, and several other days in which I happened to be off by a few minutes.  Even after I rattled off a nice little streak of getting my spot back for several consecutive days, this fuckface would still take my exact spot whenever they managed to get there before I did.

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Go home, Atlanta’s full – really

Every now and then there will be some article about how the traffic in Atlanta is amongst the worst in the country or the world, or an article about how the housing market within the city proper is gradually climbing into San Francisco-like ascensions.  And then inevitably, like people flocking to the supermarkets for milk, bread and toilet paper at the news of oncoming snow, there will always be someone whether it’s through Twitter or any social media outlet, or in a comments section who says “go home, Atlanta’s full” or something of the like.

But then on the eve of the Super Bowl, which is being played in Atlanta this year, the city actually did become full; to the point where even the local NBC news outlet had no choice but to drop a headline that, Atlanta was full.  The meme became reality to where it had to not just be acknowledged by the media, but integrate it into the headlines.  And to prove that Atlanta was full, 11 Alive provided time-lapse video evidence of the clusterfuck of humanity that converged into Downtown Atlanta.

It looked like a more ghetto version of Shinjuku Station whenever the lights turned green and suddenly hundreds of people would cross the streets, filling up every inch of space in the process.

Frankly, when I knew that the Super Bowl was coming to Atlanta, not that I have a tremendous amount of business in the city anymore now that I’ve moved back out to the ‘burbs, but I knew that anything within two weeks of the Super Bowl was a definite no-fly zone for going remotely anywhere near the city if it could absolutely be helped.  And seeing video evidence of just how full Atlanta became, just a night prior to the Super Bowl justified everything I thought was going to be the case, and made me very glad that I no longer worked or lived remotely anywhere within city proper limits.

Needless to say, it’s still hilarious to me that the meme became reality, even if it just reached critical mass on one of the numerous nights in which people flooded the city.  But it’s official, Atlanta was full; now everyone go home.

The answer is always yes

In moments of frustration, have you ever asked the types of rhetorical questions that are directed to people responsible for said frustration, regardless of if they can even hear you or not?

“Is _____ really that difficult?”
“Is your job really that difficult?”
“Is driving a car really that hard?”
“Is it really that difficult to use your turn signal?”
“Is it really that difficult to re-rack your weights?”
“Is it really that hard to wipe down that bench?”
“Is parallel parking really that hard?”
“Is parking really that difficult?”
“Is it really that hard to check your email?”
“Are you really that stupid?”
“Are you really that dense?”
“Are you really that oblivious?”

And the list goes on and on.  I ask these kinds of things often.  Sadly, it’s taken me longer than it probably takes other people to realize that in 100% of these inquiries, the answer is always yes.

So lately, whenever I reflexively blurt out these questions, or ask these things in my head, I actually have to consciously remind myself that the answer yes.

When it comes to the rhetorical questions, inquiring about the difficulty of common human behaviors, the answer is always yes.

That being said, I am apparently very good at many, many, many difficult things.

Discussing an issue with no possible solution

Impetus: for whatever reason, Curbed Atlanta posted an “article” about the ugly parking garages of Atlanta.  Thinly veiled was the subjective commentary that Atlanta has too many parking garages, and that the presence of these colossal concrete dungeons of car storage were inhibiting growth, clogging up space for commerce and potential business and were just plain ugly.

The thing is, they’re not entirely wrong in their claims, but the fact of the matter is that it’s not like Atlanta doesn’t need these parking garages.  Every single one of the parking garages that are being vilified for simply existing are for the most part essential and often used on a regular basis.  If Curbed Atlanta got their wish, and these lots magically ceased to exist, and were immediately replaced with overpriced pretentious boutique shops, overpriced pretentious boutique restaurants, or extremely small parks that provides a tiny bit of aesthetically pleasing green space that will be filled with people who walk their dogs but don’t pick up their shit, where would people park their cars?

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Parking Wars: Fairfax County

Over the weekend, I was back in my old stomping grounds, visiting my family and some old friends.  That in itself is a whole other story, but one of the things that stuck with me over this last trip was the sheer amount, or lack of parking there seems to be back in ol’ Fairfax County.

Parking has always been an issue up there, with there being vastly way more cars needing to park at places where there is no space, but during this past trip up, it was somehow worse than I’ve ever seen it before.  Granted, in this particular visit, Northern Virginia was still recovering from a lot of snow, with there being monumental banks of snow still unmelted and awaiting a rise in the temperatures for it to fully dissipate, but in so many instances, these giant hills of snow were more or less piled up in parking spaces, curbs, or along sidewalks.  None of this helped the perilous plight of parking, but I can’t imagine that things would be dramatically better if they weren’t around either.

Needless to say, from the time I arrived back in Fairfax County, it didn’t take long for me to see the ridiculousness of how far people went to secure their parking, because there’s frankly so little of it available.

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Sometimes I feel like Bill from King of the Hill

There was once an episode of King of the Hill somewhere in the 13th season, where the non-Hank plot of the episode was that Peggy, Dale and Minh realized that Bill was the perfect representation of the every man in the United States, and basically that anything he liked was worth putting some chips into on the stock market. Discreetly, of course. After a while, the troika began to make some money on stock market, and started to enjoy some of the luxuries that an influx of cash provides.

Eventually, it slips to Bill that he’s the guinea pig to them, and once made aware that his decisions had impact on others, the talent of inadvertently picking stock market winners vanishes as he becomes overly self-conscious of the things he likes, and the troika not only starts tanking at the stock market, they ultimately lose all their luxuries in the process and come back to zero.

Now there’s absolutely nothing to be proud of in comparing myself to Bill Dauterive, because in the show’s hierarchy, he’s the world’s biggest loser, in spite of his unknown wealthy background, fluency in Cajun French, and numerous talents, hidden because he’s the show’s punching bag. But in context of this post, I do feel like I can sometimes relate in being somewhat of an everyman.

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