More and more, people live in a condo rather than a house on property. Many elders decide to sell their former homes, the ones where they reared their children and saw their grandchildren play under that big tree in the back yard. It makes economic sense. They enter a new world of marble, granite, glass , stainless steel and live in a tall concrete tower. At first, it is a dream come true. Good thing the old dog died and the cat because you can't have pets. The two cars you owned are down to one. Gone are the family antiques because the kids don't want "your junk". Anyway, the wire cage storage locker will barely hold the cruise luggage not that you can afford to cruise now. Never know when the condo might charge you a levy or up the fee for the just-in-case contingency fund. You do have your sun deck though. It's a peek a boo, a few inches of far away ocean and the windows of other condos looking at yours. Your barbecue is Barbie size and basically an electric fry pan on a stand. You and your wife split one car for the one parking spot you get. It's behind a series of wire gates that thieves enter even though the codes are ones you often you can't remember. Instead of the tax man or town mayor, you have something call The Council. It rules the building and is made up of power folk who are often slightly sociopathic. If you don't follow the rules and bylaws, you'll be getting notices nicely typed up and stuffed under your door. You begin to feel like you're living in a hotel with all your stuff in it. Hopefully, you won't run into a council president like the one I heard of recently. It informed fellow owners that I will "objectively enforce the bylaws and rules to maintain the integrity of the community, thank you for your understanding". Hey, come talk to me, neighbour! Suddenly, you yearn to be back in your old house with the lawn and smoky barbecue and wood fireplace, the lino and tile and cosy old sagging recliner. But nevermind, soon there is going to be a holiday celebration with a white plastic tree, plastic napkins and cutlery, streamed music and BYOB. Can anyone complain?
