The scene 4/29/22 after a min-tornado hit our neighborhood and the last house and/or duplex being built on our street.
Yesterday someone moved in.
It is finally over, after four years of dumpsters, construction equipment, mud, debris, and flat tires from nails.
The good: Banner and I can safely take our walks without stepping out in the street to avoid obstacles.
The bad: My neighbors will need to find something new to bitch about.
13 comments:
LOL, I'm SURE they will find 'something' to bitch about...
ROFL! They don't "bitch" about it, Old_NFO....they "discuss" it!
Old NFO
They always have the "never fail" subject of the property management if nothing else is available.
DrJim
You are too kind. This building population is about 20% "Karens".
How is the coven doing? Do you think that they like Old Banner or do they want to drop him in the cauldron?
LL
How to put this? Most of the original Coven have died (this is a 62+ building). Then the COVID lock down kept them from meeting. There is now a group that gathers but are a mere shadow of the originals.
Anyone, including me, who hurts Banner would face the wrath of many neighbors. At lest six residents routinely carry treats for him. He brings a lot of joy to some very lonely people. While he never bumps into or jumps on people, he will come up to them at a dead run then hit the brakes.
My status? Wingman for a dog.
There's always the color of the paint to whine about, guaranteed someone will not like it. Let the games begin!
As a machinery guy, I've learned the hard way that the color and apparent quality of the paint is seemingly more important than how the gizmos work to some people. Someone will inevitably say they want their machine painted "battleship gray" and you better be finding out what navy because there are several shades available. I demand they provide a color code for anything not our standard color or that they provide the paint.
Www
Include me in the group bitching about the paint colors used in that development.
1970 I ran sales for a Utah modular home builder when a customer was upset with the color of their new home. Kanab, UT is red sandstone and alkali. Their choice was barn red and white shingles. After meeting with the customer at the dealer's office, we took the very color samples they used out to the house. Perfect match.
WSF, I'd have paid ten dollars to have seen that show.
W.w.w
Camouflage experts couldn't have done better. That house disappeared into the red sandstone background. Other than rectangular windows and door, it was nearly invisible.
Our Kanab dealer was quite successful. As a goodwill gesture, we provided the buyer with 5 gallons of paint, any standard color they wanted, for them to use themselves. I can't remember at this late date what they picked.
At the time, Kanab's population was heavily LDS. Word got around.
Good story. We used to have a customer in one southeastern state for whom we could never do anything right, always whining about something and sending in back charges for things he said he fixed, without notifying us in advance to give us a chance to fix it ourselves, of course. One day he called in to whine about the paint on a new machine we'd shipped to him. It was already installed so he wouldn't ship it back but said he'd send in a bill for repainting it.
It so happened we had a guy traveling thru that area and we sent him over to take a look. Not more than an hour had passed since this mook had called to complain. Our guy walks up on the jobsite and had a look and said, where's all this bad paint? I don't see anything.
Oh, well, the mook said, it must have been the way the light was shining on it.
All told, doubtful we ever made a dime off this guy because of his shenanigans, but that all changed after I took over that sales territory because I got tired of his crap and fired him. Actually picked up some business because of it, go figure.
Same time frame, I was friends with my main competitor, one Max Phelps. Took a call from a man who explained he was some highly trained asshole who expected his house to be built to some impossible standard. I told him we couldn't do it and sent him to our competitor.
Weeks later I ran into my competitor and we had lunch together. Waiting until he had just taken a bite I asked, "So Max, how is it going with Mr Asshole?" After he was done chocking and sputtering Max used language seldom heard in that small LDS town restaurant.
Heh-heh, good times.
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