There's a reason why you'll be running unopposed.
When I did my two-year stint, I was very naive: I had this idea that I'd be giving back to the community we'd moved to to raise our family, and that it would be an enriching, satisfying experience where I'd get to know my neighbors better.
Boy, did I ever. I learned which neighbors were chronic complainers. I learned who liked to make abusive phone calls after an evening of drinking. I learned which folks liked to make their problems my problems.
Very shortly, I discovered that I was having the same conversations with my neighbors that I was having with my children, except for the tone of voice. "Well, did you try asking your neighbor to move his car? I tell you what: why don't you ask him to move it, and if you're still having a problem, call me back."
Our neighborhood, being relatively new (1985), has a set of covenants that dictate what residents can and can't do to their homes and yards. Several neighbors were quite sure those covenants didn't apply to them. ("What do you mean I can't paint my house purple?" True story.) I had a real estate agent call me one night at 10 and demand that the board approve, right then and there, a fence her clients planned to build around the house they were due to buy the next day. When I told her the approval committee wasn't going to be meeting between 10 that night and 9 the following morning, she began screaming at me that her clients HAD to have that fence, the sale would fall through without it, and she would sue me personally for the amount of her commission when it did. (Her clients went through with the purchase and submitted their plans for a fence. Their fence plan wildly violated the covenants and was denied. They're still in the house.)
That agent, by the by, lived in our neighborhood and was completely familiar with what the covenants said.
For two years I mostly mediated disputes. Who didn't clean up after his dog. Who was cutting through a neighbor's yard to walk to work. Who brought work trucks home and parked in the street (definitely against the covenants). Who planted a garden in the community open space, and then was incensed when told it had to be removed. Who put a swing set in the community open space, and then was incensed when told it had to be removed AND she'd be liable if anyone was hurt playing on it. ("But it's in the community open space. It should be the community's responsibility. I put it up for the community to use. You should be thanking me, not threatening me.")
But my favorite, I think, was the man — he'd clearly been drinking for awhile before he called — who telephoned one evening to complain that a neighbor's dog had pooed in his yard.
"Did you see the dog?"
"No, I didn't, but you need to do something about it!"
"Do you know whose dog it was?"
"No, I don't, but you need to do something about it!"
"Have you seen any dogs loose on your street?"
"No, I haven't, but you need to do something about it!"
I asked him what he wanted me to do about it, and as soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted them. "Oh, man, he's going to tell me he wants me to come over there and pick up the poop."
I got lucky. He apparently was so fed up with my lack of assistance that he cursed and slammed the phone down. I never heard from him again.
So if you ever become president of your neighborhood association, watch out for poop. In every sense of the word.
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