Listening To The Voices

“…they’re telling me to stay home today and clean my guns…”


For those that don’t already get it, my subtitle is actually the punch line to one of my favorite politically incorrect jokes.

The joke involves some guy calling in to work and, having exhausted all of the standard excuses for being absent from his employment, he tells his boss that “the voices told him to stay home and clean his guns…”

What’s an employer to do when faced with the option(s)?

Can you say “postal”?

Any way, that’s not what I’m talking about this morning.

I find myself entirely frustrated with my moronic, self-serving, self important neighbors the lovely people that serve with me on our Condo Board of Directors.

Basically, I‘ve figured out what they (the board) are up to (or down to,) and they’re pissed off at me as a result. Since there is nothing else that they can do to me, they’ve chosen to launch petty anonymous assaults on our use of the property in an effort to cause discomfort and otherwise discredit me personally.

Last week I was told that I couldn’t have my barbeque grill on my front patio. “Twern’t allowed according to the ‘covenants’”, which I couldn’t have a copy of (the covenants) because “I ‘twern’t’ an ‘OWNER’”. And by the way, “they would be contacting the owner of our condo if we didn’t comply…”

Resisting the urge to bitch slap the insolent woman lovely young property manager’s assistant, I said “Fine, I’ll take care of it” as I held my temper in check.

What was interesting to me is that my Webber Kettle has happily resided on the corner of our front porch for at least 18 months without any commentary as to a violation of the sensibilities of the “Condo Nazi” codes.

It was only after my arrival on the board with criticisms that unexpectedly struck a bit close to home with certain useless imbeciles members of said board that our living standards became an issue.

This latest missive was delivered by the property management company’s newest employee—I’ll call her Miss Crappy Pants—in honor of her personality and demeanor.

Actually, her personality could more aptly be compared to that of…oh…I don’t know…possibly…a BRICK?

This assault follows on the heels of the denunciation of my installation of my lovely flamingo and parrot lighting on our screened sun porch last month.

As a result of the latest directive, I had my grill and associated Rubbermaid grilling supply storage locker relocated to our narrow back patio within a half hour of our conversation. I can hardly wait to stand with smoke filled eyes, balancing on one foot, while attempting to handle my next load of grilled beer butt chickens.

Regarding the “Condo Nazi’s” prior efforts…I only need one or two words:

Can you say “ineptitude” or possibly “willful malfeasance”?

Here’s the real problem that I’ve uncovered in my unofficial official capacity as head of the so-called “Maintenance Committee” of Sea Palms Colony.

Again, as an executive summary, I only need three words:

“Everything’s falling apart.”

How simple is that?

Ok, it’s really not that bad, but this place is over thirty years old and has gone from a moderately priced development on a rural coastal island, to a highly coveted property worth about $15 million dollars on an island with ever increasing population density.

The only problem is that until the past few years, when the descendants of the original owners and new buyers started coming in, maintenance was a sideline issue—just so much eyewash on the agenda of the “tea party” annual board meetings.

The board loves to pound their chests and tout their six figure escrow balance and the fact that they keep the annual association fees at a constant level. The only problem is, they should have started increasing the fees each year—five or ten years ago, because they need three or four times as much money as the have in the bank to handle the roof, site drainage, and patio structural issues that I’m finding about now that I’ve started looking at the property details.

At the last board meeting the president basically waived me off and irreverently dismissed my comments, just prior inviting me to excuse myself from the meeting after wasting 75 minutes of my time enduring mindless “Roberts Rules of Order” BS and motions to spend $2,400 planting new palm trees.

Now they want me to meet with their civil engineer this morning to walk the property to address the site drainage issues.

Fine, I’ll be there with bells on.

I’ve been beating that drum (site drainage) for 26 of the 27 months we’ve lived here and I’m probably only one of two people on the board that knows how to use a transit and read a topographical drawing.

The only problem is that we need to buy a new ROOF to keep the rain out of the buildings, but I’m afraid that the cost of the site improvements to make that rain water run off of the property is greater than the amount that we currently have in the bank.

I emphatically stated that FACT in a meeting 18 months ago, but no one listened.

Here’s the bottom line. For the past five or ten years our condo board has been populated by people that are very old and know that their time here in these condos, if not on this planet, is quite limited. Their strategy has been to vote to limit their out of pocket costs to a minimum, knowing that they are either going to buy the farm die else move into assisted living before the bills come due.

Thus the low bank balance and ensuing fiscal crisis.

I have in the past lamented the fact that we might have missed a good deal by not purchasing our condo when we moved here in 2004. Now I am certain that I am glad that we didn’t buy and hold it past about right now because the proverbial feces is about to strike the fan blades and the result is going to be a SUBSTANTIAL increase in annual condo fees in addition to a SUBSTANTIAL assessment to cover the existing cash shortfall.

The condo board is definitely going to have a shit fit regret their intimidation campaign and failure to heed my warnings when I get through delivering the written results of my independent investigation to all 48 owners. The ground is already shaking under my feet.

If you don’t hear back from me soon, someone please call 911.