Roles

I heard a story recently about that guy in the neighborhood. The one who tells everyone what to do. The garbage bins can’t be put out to the curb until after dark, unsightly as they are. Lawns are not to be mowed on Sundays– the noise unsettles the sanctity of the day. He had moved up north, they said, now that he was edging in on 90; he needed to be close to his kids. But for a couple of decades, he played sheriff of the neighborhood.

As it turns out, he also picked up some jobs. Like he would shovel out your driveway when the snow blew in on a clipper while you were up north for the weekend. A whole pack of dogs had paraded through his care. When asked, he’d water your urns full of annuals while you went to the Grand Canyon with the kids. So people along that road held back on hasty criticism of his bossy ways. One owner said she still questioned whether she should mow on Sunday even after he had left the neighborhood.

People have inclinations to play certain roles. Many are harmless. Some overstep into infringement territory. But given compensating factors, people find a balance. An acceptance.