I don’t do this that often, but this was such a classic letter written just over three years ago and addressed to the Brown Shirts running the of HOA of a small, but elegant gated community in the ever growing evidence of White Flight known as the small Texas Hill Country berg I once called home.
At 52, I was the youngest resident….and I was despised for reasons I still don’t know. The next youngest resident was probably mid 70’s and obviously didn’t enjoy the 60’s as she should have. There were lots of widows, a few divorcees and former power couples who decided to downsize and leave their CEO positions in Houston or Dallas for the slower, more serene part of the Hills.
When I first moved into this neighborhood I owned a Black Volvo convertible and it had an incredible sound system and one of my favorite songs was blaring through my speakers as I drove drove through the gates one afternoon. The song was “Plowed” by Sponge.
If you’re not familiar with the Plowed, it’s a great tune, slightly up tempo metal and nothing remotely like the Glenn Miller Band medleys than are frequently heard playing on the Victrolas in this neighborhood.
Some of “the older ladies” often gathered to gossip and compare bunions by the mail boxes near the front gate and apparently didn’t appreciate the impromptu Sponge concert or the fact that I entered the neighborhood taking that first wide corner at about 30 mph without tapping my breaks once.
That’s when the first in a series of very nasty, vile almost threatening letters started arriving. They were always mean, insulting and questioned my fitness as a resident at such a gentrified community I started calling Old Asshole Acres. I learned to hate that place.
I’d also get nasty notes taped to my front door, bitching about how unsightly the boxes were piled up by my front door indicating my ”obvious Amazon addiction”. If I didn’t bring my garbage cans in from the alley within the proper time coordinates as designated by Fidel and Raul Castro within the HOA, I’d receive a note.
They must have placed an alarm on my front door because whenever I’d step foot outside, three of the biggest Yentas would run to their windows to catch my next infraction. My dog’s bowel habits were of particular interest to many of these people. And one Christmas, the bin Laden faction of my HOA found my front door wreath too big and garish and let me know with an note taped to the wreath on a special Post It with the anonymous sender’s monogram located in the corner.
I’d had enough by January of 2017 and moved, but I decided to do so with a letter of my own. I kept it in the email archives of my iPad and came across it tonight. This is the letter I sent to every member of the Posse Comitatus that comprised that particular HOA.
*****
As of today, I’m a former resident of this neighborhood and while it is a clean, relatively quiet and pleasantly appointed space, it has to be THEE most uncomfortable places I’ve ever lived and I’ve lived and worked in some extremely shady neighborhoods in Houston. And the gossip mongering???? Some of you can disseminate fact andfiction faster that AT&T. This has happened more times than I can count. Anyone remember the three page letter accusing me of being a Communist?And not only that, these anonymous letters questioned my “fitness” asa resident here and various negative notes I’ve received, made me paranoid to walk out of my front door because it was obvious to me a number of residents here have nothing better to do than live in front of their windows. Did you think I couldn’t see you watching me?You thought you were safe looking out your windows from a darkened rooms, but the lights were on in your living room and your entire image was backlit. Because of your well…… “girth” and it was your house, deduction at least one of the haters was easy. And if you remember, I just stared just back at you from under under the street light…..Exorcist movie poster style.Or the thinner monochromatic crone whose hair, gums, skin, teeth and lips were all the same color, would try to hide in her darkened room, but I could see her movements break the stream of red and green lights emanating from her computer.If felt like I’ve just spent the past five years in a white collar prison.There are a few kind and friendly people here, those who frequentlyasked about me my recently diagnosed illness, or inquired about my mother. I appreciated your concern. And there were those like me who also tried to keep to themselves. If I was accused of being a Communist for my non-participation, were they considered Sandanistas?
After sending my initial notification of my intent to move, I learned I wasn’t the only resident harassed and these poor people got it worse than me. Other residents were actually terrorized. Phony police calls to their addresses for suspicion of selling drugs? More absurd anonymous letters and notes? If notmental issues, why else would, people do this? This is terrorism. Are you HOA members actually oblivious to this??? Or do you and Papa Doc and Baby Doc sanction this behavior? I know I’ve complained, as have others, so why haven’t you done anything about it? What could the reason behind this lunatic behavior? Sane, mentally stable don’t behave this way. So, what could possibly be the reason for such terribly, boorish behavior? Traumatic childhoods? Lousy marriages? Family abandonment? Lonely and bored?? Alcohol abuse?Is it John Candy’s twin sister and her obesity that makes her so miserable? Is it narcissism and arrogance? Your dark, Luciferian souls? Could it simply be too much dabbling in Xanax or Ativan? Spirit cooking, perhaps?Whatever the reason behind the letters, the notes, the unnecessary calls to the police meant strictly to embarrass and humiliate, the obvious attempts to terrorize are NOT the behaviors of mentally stable people. For those of you remain here, I’d be very wary.In closing, I wish to convey to the few of you who were kind, friendlyand reached out which encouraged me to respond in kind, I send you all the best, and I wish you much peace and in your lives. Thank you for your generosity of spirit.To the specific women who’ve caused so much grief in this smallneighborhood, I understand there are cauldrons and broomsticks on saleat several area retail stores.Eat me.LK
