Spring is Coming and With it, the “Lawn Police”

Heaven help the dandelion

My husband and I have lived in Elgin, Illinois for a little over twenty years. We moved here from Chicago, specifically, from the area known as Rogers Park, a very cool neighborhood that started out as a Jewish enclave and then evolved into a big ole’ melting pot with a diversity of shops, restaurants, and bars.

I must have walked along the main hub known as Devon Avenue, thousands upon thousands of times. During the summer, the scent of curry hung heavy in the air due to the number of Indian restaurants and trinket shops that kept their doors open to the street. As I love Indian food, it makes my mouth water just thinking about it.

When we first moved to Elgin, it was like being dropped in the middle of a cornfield on another planet. We had no idea what this Western suburb was like other than the fact that it was old, and we were fortunate to find a beautiful, well-cared-for ranch home that suited our budget. I was still working in Chicago’s “Loop” at the time, at an ad agency, and thought I could handle the commute. Or, hoped I could. That became a moot point when I was one of fifty people to get cut, in 2001. And the commute sucked big time, by the way. Every night when my husband picked me up at the train station, I had a “puss” on my face (as he referred to it) a mile long.

As eager as we were to have a home of our own, we did have pause for thought, though, when, the night we moved in, and utterly exhausted as you. might expect, we stopped for dinner at a diner-type joint on the main drag near our new house. It was nearly ten p.m. and we both wanted a cocktail to help us unwind after our marathon upheaval.

When I say “marathon,” that’s an understatement as schlepping from a third-floor apartment in the city to a Western suburb forty miles away was no small feat. Not to mention that our moving crew was a ragtag team of stoners, which, as long as they didn’t break any of our things, was okay with us. In fact, I caught them taking a weed break in one of our bathrooms but still, they got the job done. They were a friggin’ hoot. I remember them commenting several times about the number of books we had, stating that my husband and I “must be school teachers.”

By the time the movers left us to our own devices at our new home, we were “sick tired.” You know that feeling when the only thing keeping you vertical is sheer willpower? That’s how it was for us.

Back to the restaurant: As we were beginning to feel a hell of a lot better, hubby and I wanted to order a second cocktail, but were told by the waitress that we had to finish the ones we had ordered first…first. Or she couldn’t bring Round 2 to the table. Huh? So that was our introduction to Elgin.

And, being the obliging people we are, we did as she asked.

There is much to like about Elgin and conversely, much that puzzles and frustrates me. Our city’s restaurants for one thing. The lack of variety is stupendous. One can find pizza, bar food, and, because Elgin has a large Hispanic community, plenty of decent Mexican eateries, along with “joints” that serve up some damned fine jalapeno poppers and other, standard bar fare. But that’s about it. Nothing you’d call “destination dining.” But of course, living in the city for so long, we were spoiled.

And then, there’s the “boat.” The Queen Victoria riverboat casino. For good or bad, a perk that Elgin is known for, aside from the city’s manufacturing some pretty fine watches, back in the day.

That’s another story, however. What I’d like to rant about today is the lack of respect and common decency amongst some of the less-than-upright citizens here.

For example, we live off of a road that was at best, “sleepy,” when we first moved in, and due to the surge in home development, is now quite busy. We can handle “busy,” but what really gets us going are the imbeciles who feel it’s their birthright to zoom down a 35 mph zone at 90 mph, in their souped-up cars. This occurs multiple times a day and starts as soon as the temps start to rise. In other words, right now. And it continues all through the summer, making a peaceful afternoon or evening out on our deck an impossible goal. And frankly, that sucks.

I mentioned “evening.” Yeah, this vehicular uproar goes on late into the night. Ten, eleven, twelve. They’re out there. I wonder if any of these drivers read a book? What do you think? Vintage issues of HOT ROD magazine, maybe, but books? Uh-uh.

Please know that I’m not one to call the cops and drop a dime on someone without being pushed to the limit. Last summer, I buzzed the Elgin PD about four times and then gave up when I realized that they're assuring me they’d get on the case, was bullshit. I suggested that all they really had to do was post a squad in the area. That’s it. Display a bit of presence. Something that might deter these idiots and make them think, but then again, “thinking” probably isn’t their strong suit.

And herein lies the real bullshit: Heaven help you if, as an Elgin resident, you have one too many dandelions on your lawn! You’ll be slapped with a fine so quickly, your head will rotate on your spindly little neck. Because the city’s coffers are low and they need to ramp them up any way they can. Especially since Covid, and the reduction in those folks who are willing to lose their shirts on the boat.

That’s what happened to us last summer. Our usual lawn guy had bounced and before we found a replacement, and yes, we searched like crazy but it’s a busy season, the city fined us for having too many dandelions.

And I understand that dandelions are technically, weeds, but a fine? Really? Not even a warning?

Something stinks here, does it not? Like a Halloween jack-o-lantern left out in the sun to rot. Now, if the response on Nextdoor.com was any indication, I’m sure a shit-ton of people will tell me it’s my responsibility as a homeowner to keep my lawn in shape, and I agree. But what’s the city’s responsibility to us? What happened to “disturbing the peace?” Is that not a misdemeanor? Worth a ticket, at least, or a warning to the offenders?

Hell, no. And I understand that the Elgin PD probably has bigger fish to fry than attending to noise complaints and I respect and appreciate their service. But, this isn’t Chicago. They’re not breaking up riots — to the best of my knowledge — like the Chicago PD was tasked to do after the murder of George Floyd.

And here’s another “hell, no.” Moving is not an option. We don’t have the energy, plus, we love our home.

This has been a hellish year, and, after a long winter’s quarantine, when we’re all looking to enjoy the warmer weather and some time outdoors…finally!…I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a little consideration from our fellow residents. Do you? And I’m not just talking about our neighborhood, but all neighborhoods. In fact, you probably have some kinks in yours, as most neighborhoods do.

Now, I drive a Fiat, and small as it is, it has some big giddy-up. And I have a bit of a lead foot, but, I’m not about to risk life and limb by driving fifty miles over the limit. Nor do I want to flatten some poor critter who’s only trying to get to the other side of the road. Because I’m not an asshole. Not like that, anyway.

But those Dale Armstrong wannabes? I wouldn’t mind flattening one of them. What do you think? Am I being unreasonable?

© Sherry McGuinn, 2021. All Rights Reserved.

Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.

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