It happened quietly. For weeks, my ears were programmed to detect the raucous rumble of a tree trimmer’s motor when in fact it was the muffled snap and soft swoosh of cascading branches and the gentle controlled hurumph landings that caught Mr. UnHollywood’s attention while he sat in our backyard reading The Hunger Games as a personal favor. It occurs to me that his immediate response to the man in our neighbor’s Palm Tree may have come more from lack of interest in the book than anything else.
Whatever it is that caused Mr. UnHollywood to look skyward is unimportant. What matters is that because of his discovery, I have a renewed faith in my fellow man. I have discarded any notions of gathering dead fronds and returning them, special delivery, to my next-door-neighbor. Common courtesy reigns again. Either that, or my next-door-neighbor has a healthy respect for city code.
I thank my lucky stars I live in the 90210 where a phone call to Code Enforcement could summon a City Inspector to my door within 48 hours. Above that, this inspector is a man who genuinely cared about my predicament. As much as I hit it off with him, I sure hope this time next year I won’t have to chat with him again. At least not about Palm Wars 2013.