Smokey, this is not ‘Nam.  This is bowling.  There are rules.  -The Big Lebowski

Walter spoke whole hearted, prophetic truth.  Any experience within the geographic confines of Vietnam likely shares little in common with bowling.  And yes, like them or not, there are in fact rules.  

Some rules are guardrails.  Primarily designed to keep us on track, for steering off course could lead to certain disaster.  We ponder the purpose of their inane creation, thinking them so blatantly obvious that they must have been crafted for the moronic, dull-witted masses.  Who would drive down the illicit embankment into the forbidden forest?  You see what happens, Larry? 

But over time those ignored guardrails garnered noticeable attention.  Sometimes the metallic surface is scraped, brushed by a hapless fender or two.  Nothing too serious, but definitive contact, nonetheless.  Sometimes they’re bent and pushed backwards, tested by a more ardent rule rebel.  And other times they’re a twisted, gnarled heap of absolute disobedience.  Sometimes you eat the bear and sometimes the bear, well, he eats you.

Saturday, Donny, is Shabbos, the Jewish day of rest. That means that I don’t work, I don’t drive a car, I don’t f***ing ride in a car, I don’t handle money, I don’t turn on the oven, and I sure as s**t *don’t f***ing roll!  -The Big Lebowski

Moses had rules, too.  Well, they weren’t his rules, per se.  And none of them involved recreational league sports.  But he did relay them to the Israelites in the desert.  Super big ones required stone tablets etched by the hand of God.  Written rules tend to hold a greater significance, regardless of their medium.  However, we tend to understand them more topically than in depth.  Deeper rule study can prove monotonous and mind-numbing.  Ever done a Leviticus or Deuteronomy bible study?  You are entering a world of pain.

On Mount Sinai, God made a covenant with Moses reaffirming his promises to Abraham’s descendants.  A covenant is a binding agreement between two parties in order to work together toward a common goal.  Maybe because I think of covenants as biblical, it personally seems like a higher edict than a simple rule or even a written law.  Isn’t it interesting that home owner associations call their rules a covenant?

I read parts of my HOA covenant.  It was carved into ethereal tablets on the worldwide web and stored on an ark-like server.  I don’t believe God created them, but the HOA may disagree.  Over the past twenty years I’ve seen them get fairly holier than thou about some of the man-made, pedantic rules.  You said it, man.  Nobody f***s with the Jesus.

You know a lotta ins, lotta outs, lotta what-have-you’s.  -The Big Lebowski

I’m no fan of overgrown lawns, peeling paint, sagging roofs, dangling downspouts, collapsing fences, cars on blocks, empty vodka and half & half bottles, or other general suburbanite clutter scattered on the property.  But it’s the little infractions that the board says are up to their discretion as to whether it’s a covenant violation.  I define their discretion as their personal preferences, practices, and proclivities.

I received an HOA covenant violation notices for an illegal playground slide color, an improperly located basketball hoop, windblown winter trash wedged between my side fence and house, and worn-off paint on my front step kick plates.  I would not consider these stone tablet violations, but rather minor noncompliance issues that are open for interpretation.  And, uh, it’s a lot of strands to keep in my head, man.  Lotta strands in old Duder’s head.

They said I couldn’t have a yellow slide because it was not an earth tone.  I told them it wasn’t yellow, but wheat colored.  Wheat is pretty earthy.  They relented.  The basketball hoop was mobile, so we moved it in front of different houses in the cul-de-sac to avoid HOA targeting.  They caught on to our little trick and gave us all violation notices.  We relented.  I didn’t know the trash was there because I don’t do lawn work in February.  That one was a win-win.  Neither of us liked the trash where the wind relocated it.      

Yeah, well, you know, that’s just, like, your opinion, man.  -The Big Lebowski

Who cares about the slide’s color?  It really tied the room together.  If everybody in the cul-de-sac wants the hoop in the street, why can’t we leave it there?  Am I wrong?  However, trash doesn’t belong outside of its proper receptacle and the steps should get touched up.  I have four months to remedy this heinous paint transgression.

Total disclosure, the worn off paint has been there for a couple of years.  I’ve seen it and thought, I should fix that.  Then I inspect the board and contemplate whether I need to replace the entire piece.  What about the railing’s and spindle’s paint?  And then I look at the twenty year old decking and think, maybe that needs replacing.  Now it’s evolved into a far larger, complicated, and pricey endeavor than simply dabbing on some paint.  If you’re not into the whole brevity thing.

Of course, I’d need to consult the HOA architectural review committee (ARC) by submitting my plans to them and await their discretionary findings.  This could takes weeks.  Will I have to pull a work permit?  By this point, I’ve talked myself out of the project and decided that the paint wear adds character to the house.  It expounds the property’s rustic charm.  Why would would I alter this effect?  Besides, what qualifications are required to be on the ARC anyway?

Donny, you’re out of your element!  -The Big Lebowski

Perhaps they have training in architectural engineering.  Maybe they’re horticulturists or arborists and are well versed with plants and trees.  Possibly they’ve studied design and possess years of professional work experience in this field.  No.  Conceivably, by dumb luck, some of them possess these attributes, either past or present.  More to the point, they are just volunteers who enjoy telling others what to do, especially if they can lord their discretion over you. 

I asked years ago if I could replace my wood railing and spindles on the front porch.  The climate here is quite dry, and it takes a toll on paint and wooden surfaces.  Besides, it looks so 80’s.  I wanted to replace them with a Trex-type product or possibly a metallic option.  A woman on the ARC wrinkled her nose and promptly told me that those options wouldn’t look nice, even though she approved one of them on the back deck.  Look nice according to who?  Does constant peeling paint look better?   Strikes and gutters, ups and downs.

But I’ll fix this issue, no doubt.  It’s no big infraction and you’d have to stop and look closely to see it, but it is there.  My procrastination caught up with my decision stagnation and confabulation.  But it does make you wonder if the ARC really has that much time to creep around the neighborhood spying on its residents, or do they draw from a pool of community snitches.  Regardless, by the time the weather warms it will get repainted, replaced, or redone.  Why?  Because…

The Dude abides.  -The Big Lebowski