Did Gremlins Clean My Yard? (Handyman Will "Turn On Me" Update)

Photo by John Hoff

So a couple months ago or so, there was a big email to-do over the conversation I had with some police officers about whether my handyman, one Mike Williams, would "turn on me" as one officer suggested...

I'm not sure how one would define "turn on me," though it sounds like what happens when you take in an animal from the wild and try to make them your fuzzy pet, then one day you're trying to make Fluffy fetch and he trots up with your child's limb. That kind of scenario.

I can't truthfully say Williams "turned on me." In that regard, the dire prediction of the officer did not come true. If the officer had said, however, "You watch. He will act like he's going to clean up your yard, like he's going to do a good job, maybe he'll even start out by working quite hard, but then he'll just waltz away with approximately $100 in advanced wages like a worthless bum and you won't be able to get in touch with him even though you've got three phone numbers," in THAT CASE the officer would have made a valid and accurate prediction.

But would it have been valid? Or just dumb luck? There are indeed many nice folks in the neighborhood, including the rough hillbillies near 3rd Street North who sold me a used lawnmower the other day, and it worked, and the price was fantastic. It's not accurate to say "you can't trust anybody in the neighborhood."

Furthermore, this is easy to say when one sits in an heated/air conditioned vehicle with a Colt AR-15 at the ready, not owning any property in the neighborhood, not really VESTED in what happens to the neighborhood. It is easy to say, "Don't have any contact with folks in the neighborhood and then I won't have to come out here and deal with a crime against you."

Well guess what? WE WHO ACTUALLY LIVE AND/OR OWN PROPERTY HERE ON THE NORTH SIDE have no choice but to "have dealings" with those who live around us. This kind of high-and-mighty lofty official advice doled out from a squad car reminds me of the officious and bloated guidance dished out about how to avoid date rape drugs, i.e., "never accept a drink from a stranger."

I read that "official police advice" in an article in the Grand Forks Herald a few days ago, and I wanted to shout, "Then what would you be doing in that bar in the FIRST PLACE if you didn't want a stranger to buy you a drink?"

We need better "official advice" on the North Side than "barricade yourself inside your house and have nothing to do with your neighbors." Yeah, my neighbor turned out to be worthless and undependable, albeit incredibly friendly and fun to be around. I think a lot of people can say they have relatives like that.

I avoided writing about the brush pile episode all this time because, well, I always figured Williams would come rolling up and tell me some dumb story about why he suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth, and I'd say something like, "Well, finish the job you were doing and then we'll talk" and after that I never would have advanced him a penny in wages, though I would have probably let him work...even after proving himself pretty worthless. (He still did have a wonderful and pleasant personality)

Anyway, when I returned from my out-of-town trip on family business, I noticed somebody had left a large board standing against my house. I realized it must have been a person in the neighborhood who supported my "volunteer boarding" efforts. I had been told at a neighborhood meeting a while ago such a board might turn up one day. In fact, there was a name and a number on the board, though I couldn't tell if it was a message or random graffiti. I didn't notice--just at that moment--THAT THE BIG BRUSH PILE IN THE YARD WAS MISSING.

I went off to buy a "recycled lawnmower" from some colorful "Beverly Hillbilly" characters who live a few blocks away--they are literally self-identified hillbillies, and I witnessed one of them bang on the ceiling with an axe to rouse his relative to come downstairs and sell me a lawnmower, but they won't be there long, the relative who owns the house is losing it to foreclosure, apparently--and when I finished up the front yard and thought I might get a start on the back yard I was, like, whoah!

Where did the big brush pile go?

I had made arrangements to put the brush on the pile by the future Eco-Village location via email to Kevin Gulden. Indeed, I had dragged a lot of brush there from OTHER YARDS but (like I told Kevin) "not one twig" from my own yard, because that was a different scenario and I didn't have permission.

So I got permission, but too late. The brush pile by the Eco-Village site disappeared, and I was stuck with my own brush. Until I showed up and...it was gone.

This was clearly not my worthless former handyman Mike Williams but somebody connected with dropping off the board. I am convinced the answer will come along, by and by, like the Polish woman finally got an answer to who left the flowers.

We have a neighborhood where decent people are trying to look out for each other. Tonight, some serious block watch activity is planned, in coordination with another person who believes in this kind of effort.

Thing are turning around...and little gremlins appear to have cleaned my yard. But for those who were intensely critical of the officer for saying something like that...

Sigh. In Seattle, I was a well-known critic of police brutality. I spent years involved in "cop watch" activity. Now what is my biggest criticism of the police in MINNEAPOLIS?

I wish they would come faster when I call them. I wish they would "roust harder." I wish they were willing to stick themselves out for this neighborhood as much as the people who actually live here and own property here, but aren't allowed to go driving around with guns, dealing with the crap we really need dealt with at, for example, 3101 6th Street North, the Apartment Complex of Anarchy.

Such musings about a pile of brush!

ADDENDUM: As I suspected, the answer came along. My neighbor, Peter Teachout, said he saw a crew from the city cleaning up the brush. Good lord, I never even got NOTICE. Peter said notice probably went to the previous owner unless I changed the address on the water bill...and why would I, when I owe a mere 39 cents and the water is not turned on?

Oh, well. They did a fine job. And the brush had been there a long, long time way prior to my ownership. This is another thing I can blame on Worthless Williams.

Peter admitted his own grass was getting kind of long, and he might end up getting notice if he didn't mow it soon, but his lawnmower wasn't working. I told him I'd loan him my lawn mower. Ah, social capital. It's a wonderful thing and it's growing on the block, even if my brush pile didn't disappear through the efforts of helpful gremlins. (But somebody still did drop off that board, and I'll get some use out of it soon)