So before the month is out I need to make it public: as of November 15th I officially resigned my position as Block Captain here in my neighborhood. Yes, it was a difficult decision, and yes, it goes without saying that I’m looking forward to spending more time with my family. And yes, no one under the age of 60 should ever be a block captain. My bad. The hardest thing about resigning my title is that my neighbors and family no longer need to salute me.

To quell the rumors swirling about, let me make it perfectly clear: I resigned in (silent) protest about the new sign that was installed at the entrance to our little neighborhood. So not right. We are rustic and ranchy here in our neck of the woods, and no one ever calls our area Oxford on the James. We would have to hold our noses up in the air and acquire a haughty accent to ever pull that off. Who do the Oxford people think we are? This sign belongs in front of some tacky, shiny, fakey shopping center, not in our park-like setting.

so not my hood's style

We aren’t into manufactured snootiness on this side of town. Instead of McMansions we have a creek.  I’m sure this sign violates the city code that states, “No fake colonial, black and gold, glossy sign can be situated in any neighborhood that has more feral cats than people.”

When the first of these beauties went up on Huguenot Rd., I complained in writing to the powers that be and asked that they not put such a sign where they just did. Ah well. Now that I’ve ripped off my epaulets and gold braid and service ribbons in protest, I’ve noticed a couple of tall azaleas in my yard that need transplanting…hmmm.

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