For more than two decades, my wife and I have lived in a wonderfully secluded neighborhood. All the neighbors know each other and we are seldom bothered by outsiders. The downside to this bucolic serenity is that the service sectors of the county and municipal governments don’t take much notice of us either. We are technically under the jurisdiction of Prince George’s County but literally surrounded by the City of Bowie, which has annexed every new subdivision built around us. This puts us in a bit of a no man’s land.
So last fall (2007), when I saw some bright ground level signs in the neighborhood indicating that county trucks would be coming by to vacuum any fall foliage raked up and piled to the curb, I was skeptical to say the least. For two decades I had gone through the arduous task of gathering and stuffing leaves into non-environmentally friendly plastic bags to be hauled to the county landfill. But skepticism notwithstanding when the signs went up in 2007, I decided to pile the leaves onto the curb. And lo and behold, I was not disappointed. The trucks came, albeit a few weeks later than promised. So when the signs went up again this past fall, I expected pretty much the same.
Well, it’s New Year’s Day 2009 and the leaves are still at the curb. To be precise, many of them have blown back into the yard. I am not a happy camper. The irony is that I never really expected this service in the first place. I would have been much happier if they never promised anything than for them to promise and not deliver.
It reminds me a little of New Year’s Resolutions: made with the best of intentions and even kept for a period of time, but they don’t last very long. That’s one reason I don’t make resolutions or certainly don’t announce my intentions publicly. Out of curiosity I Googled “New Years Resolutions” and got several hits listing some of the most popular resolutions. Most of them were predictable, and my feelings about their otherwise noble aspirations are decidedly mixed. For example: