Crying (Pea) Fowl

Ah, my neighborhood. I love it so, with the gorgeous foliage, and each house with its own style and architecture. It's the opposite of cookie cutter. The neighbors are in interesting mix of rich folks, too --ranging from young families to very, very old.

We're fortunate that there aren't many real problems here. Out of 83 houses, I think there's been only one foreclosure. Crime is non existent. It's lovely.

So, human nature being what it is, folks need to create drama and controversy. A few years ago, the big issue was dog crap, and a jerk neighbor who thought the best way to deal with it was to threaten to poison all furry creatures that came onto his property. Poopgate still exists. A few months ago a diminutive neighbor, who is a well known trial lawyer in town, challenged a much larger (but less athletic) neighbor to a fist fight, over comments relating to the poop.

Well, last week was our homeowner's meeting, and, fortunately, a bad bout of diarrhea kept me from attending. Wifey was there, along with my friend Jeff, and Jeff's texts about the latest controversy had me in stitches while I was in the bathroom.

It seems that we have a peafowl problem. Peacocks and Peahens (peafowl) are non native, and the couple that set up nest here has grown to a flock (group, pride, riot)? of about 20. They tend to stay on the Eastern side of our neighborhood, and Wifey and I think they're kind of cool when they cross our paths during our constitutionals. But, alas, they apparently poop with amazing volume, and screech like banshees, and most folks consider them a nuisance.

Gloria, our association president, is the classic really smart Italian girl you wanted to sit next to in class. She's organized like a general, and has a wit drier than sand. She offered to hold an online election, to determine the peafowls' fate.

The results came in today. The proverbial thumb turned downward for the big blue birds. Gloria is going to get a quote from some animal "removal" company, and then ask the Village of Pinecrest to help pay for the fowl-o-cide.

I'm the neighborhood wise ass, but I've kept my comments to myself this time. Most of the emails were pretty benign, with old ladies detailing their encounters with the critters.

My neighbor Mark, also a lawyer, made a funny by summoning his inner Rodney King, and asking why we can't all live in peace. Another neighbor, who suffers from a chronic case of defective sense of humor, immediately fired back, in broken grammar, a protest that we DO live in peace, and that the previous commentator had the right to list her peacock grievances.

I wrote to Mark thanking him, as one of life's true joys is encountering a person with a clunky inability to laugh...

So, I guess it's just a matter of time before the only trace will be a few tailfeathers. Goodbye, peacocks and peahens.

At least I know the far more interesting and hilarious humans in our neighborhood remain.