Nobody Reads This Page – “Red Baron’s Bully Brigade”

 

c. 2024 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(3-24)

 

 

Living in a mobile home community for nearly 22 years has been a learning experience for this writer. Something I never expected in my future, while studying television broadcasting through Cornell University, In New York. In those days of the late 1970’s and early 80’s, housing was something I usually took for granted. After living in a family environment throughout childhood days, I stayed with friends or lounged here and there as was necessary. But never considered that a long-term situation of being disadvantaged might befall me personally. One within the strict confines of a manufactured dwelling. Surviving the physical limits of such a minimalist lifestyle was not my greatest challenge when this shift occurred, however. What became most obvious was that the owners of such rustic properties often had little respect for their own inhabitants. So, I had to adjust to being treated as an uneducated lump, with little sophistication or smarts.

 

The language used in lease agreements, or regular bulletins and newsletters, is sometimes quite stern and aggressive. The sort of in-your-face prose one might expect in a paramilitary or prison setting. When presented outside of a legal document, this dark tone typically comes with a counterbalance of juvenile themes. Perhaps like medicine with a sweetener to make it more palatable. A passive-aggressive methodology that sounds undeniably bipolar in nature. Headlines like ‘Hello Spring’ and ‘Happy Summer,’ or illustrations of shining suns and flowering plants frequently appear in the margins. A visual adornment that in actual terms, does little to mute the sting of condescending rhetoric.

 

Despite the form of delivery, a slap in the face is hard to take as a compliment.

 

“Grass is to be cut and trimmed weekly or tenant will be billed a substantial, hourly rate by the office to have it maintained when maintenance or management sees it not being attended to. All patios/decks MUST be always kept in an orderly fashion. If you have a shed that is for storage of your items. All patio furniture, toys, and bikes are to be kept in a neat, orderly fashion. Only furniture manufactured and sold for the purpose of outside use is permitted to be on decks or patios. All oil spills or leaking or spills of any fluids is to be cleaned up by the tenant with an approved absorbent.”

 

Just reading through the text of these regular decrees, issued on-site, can produce stomach cramps for someone raised in an environment of schoolteachers and university professors. Imagine being left alone with a computer, sans the writing skills of a grade school student? The yield might be amusing, were it not so serious in tone. Pondering this perplexing conflict between levels of authority and ability only deepens the mystery of origin. Moreover, since no one on the staff is paid much for their work, how can great sums of cash be imposed as punitive penalties? Doesn’t that disconnect ring a bell, somewhere?

 

Use of the word ‘tenant,’ for example, is decidedly pejorative. Many of my neighbors own their residences, as I do personally. To be tagged with that kind of transitory descriptor makes me feel somewhat like a person feeding a parking meter. Will I be here tomorrow, on this concrete slab? Sadly, the answer is yes. And the day after, and the day after that, ad infinitum. Living in a trailer village is not an undertaking embarked upon for pleasure or entertainment. It is a hardship endured out of need. One that faces those battling poverty, and family alienation. Or challenges the ingenuity of blue-collar laborers, retirees, and handicapped citizens with few resources and a scarcity of options.

 

‘Furniture manufactured for being outside’ is another nebulous term. Since many of my fellow sojourners resting at this prefab oasis are handy with woodworking and light construction, homemade benches, tables, and chairs are not at all uncommon. Do they qualify despite having started out as pieces of pallet wood, packing crates, or decommissioned boxcar frames? One must imagine referees running around the property, with rulebooks in hand. Is there a league office to hear appeals and address grievances? Or a supreme court to chasten the unrestrained governance of property supervisors? Our Revolutionary War began with such weighty questions lingering in the minds of patriots.

 

‘Oil spills or leaking or spills of any fluids’ provides an exclamation point to this missive. Is it possible that someone wealthy enough to afford a new motor vehicle at current, inflationary prices, would live in a singlewide shack that came in on wheels? That conclusion seems difficult to defend. Aging cars and trucks, belching smoke and gushing lubricants, are plentiful in places like the one where I live. My own people-hauler is slightly less than 20 years old. If I had been blessed with a kiss from Lady Luck, I might drive a new Cadillac or BMW instead. But before reaching that point of esteem, I would certainly invest in a ticket out of the clapboard confines of a park built on swampland filled with construction waste, and landfill.

 

“No outside shelters, dog fences, or dog houses are allowed. No ‘Beware of Dog’ signs are allowed.”

 

So then, Snoopy would not get to ride atop his canine kennel, on the grounds of a mobile development? I have to hold my head when pondering that his imaginary contests with the Red Baron might never take place. But the banning of warning signs about his poochie brothers and sisters seems logical. I would guess that a more honest declaration comes by hanging a sign that reads ‘Never mind the dog, beware of owner!’ Advice usually rendered with an illustration of a pistol or rifle. I have never feared seeing wandering pets so much as I tremble when thinking of their owners, engaged in similar behavior.

 

“Pets found running loose or tied up unattended at a homesite is a violation. Resident in violation will receive a violation notice and a $150.00 fine that will be considered rent and added to Resident’s account. Any resident with one or more Pet violations will be A) required to remove the Pet from the Community or B) be given a 30-day cancellation of the Residents Lease.”

 

After two decades at my rural enclave, it has become painfully obvious that retaining occupants of any kind presents a challenge for the owners. ‘Here Today, Gone Tomorrow’ might be a slogan painted on the welcome sign by our property entrance. Though a devoted core of citizens like myself has kept the ship of state afloat. Since many neighbors already struggle to pay their monthly lot rent and skyrocketing water bills, is adding to that burden of woe a rational step? In the bizarro world of mobile homes, thinking along such lines must be discouraged. Because it happens so rarely.

 

The result of these conditions is a revolving door, spinning faster and faster. Much like the blades of Herr Manfred Richthofen’s celebrated tri-plane. Spitting out the weak, and humbling those who enter with cockiness and self-assurance, before crawling out on their hands and knees, from the wreckage. Mercy does not exist. Only judgment, and harsh consequences for those untested in battle.

 

As a lone resident, I have indeed been tested. So, despite being unable to escape, I have learned how to survive. To obey, and be silent.

 

While drinking every day, for the rest of my life.