Concave Fence Redux

One year ago, on the Search…

So my bud Jeremy is getting his own place at the end of the month. Sign, sealed, delivered, he'll have his own house with his own piece of property And All That That Implies. Congrats JRob.

This, of course, got me and Ericka thinking about houses. Purchasing them, finding them, how best to do both and what goes into each decision. In the end it's about preference, but of course financial aspects hold you back creatively.

Most realtors try to get new first-time buyers into "Starter Homes". These are either nice houses that need a lot of work, or small houses that need a lot of work. I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this. A house is a lot of work just on the outset, as all of those things that were taken for granted when in Apartment Land (such as plumbing or refridgerator problems) are now your responsibility. For some, this also adds Lawn Mowing. While I detested this as a kid, for some reason I'm kinda looking forward to it for my own house.

This brings to mind the next door neighbor from my childhood. David Calfee was his name (if he ever Googles himself, I just gave him a target), and he loved his yard. He mowed it every 3 days like clockwork, and used grass seed and all of that stuff to keep it pristine.

Of course, we kids didn't really care about yards or property values, and so every spring when Baseball got popular again, we'd head to the backyard, lined on one side by the Calfee fence, and pitch directly toward it. Having only enough players to cover the bases and the outfield, rarely would we have a catcher. So overhand after overhand pitch went into the Calfee fence, eventually creating a concave shape out of the fence metal.

Eventually, as it happened every year, the concave shape would become noticable, and parents would be notified. We'd be scolded for our lack of forethought, instructed to always use a catcher, and then after being mindful for a few days we'd go back to the same old behaviors, all the while that concave shape getting deeper and deeper.

David would fix it at the end of the season, or at least sometime when we weren't around, but every spring that shape would come back, the constant reminder that there were Children At Play and that they too loved baseball.

After speaking about possible houses for awhile, and what we'd like and dislike (and was in our budget), we basically deduced we'd like a house like the one I grew up in. A little yard, 3 bedrooms, nothing fancy. This brings a strange conundrum to mind. As children we fight desperately for independence and responsibility. Of course we try to shun the latter when it dawns on us that adulthood isn't all fun and games, but in the end we want the things our parents have: Freedom and Ownership.

It seems highly ironic that I struggle for that independence just to yearn for the thing I had for 17 years: A house big enough for a family, a yard big enough to play in, and neighbors close enough to share the little eccentricities of children like the cycle of springtime and the concave fence.

Cold hands, warm heart
We just need some time apart