The Wombat File Is Yours to Keep

Frankly, I'm disappointed in myself for not having a wittier title for this post. And I'm even more disappointed in myself for posting on this subject in the first place, since it's damning evidence that I have little to say about anything truly meaningful or even entertaining.

Nevertheless: so, a day or so ago I stumble upon this entry in one of the increasingly large number of blogs devoted to the minutae of life in the Borough of Churches. It begins by quoting an entry from the Park Slope message boards at Brooklynian.com:

"I was walking my dog along Berkeley Pl betwen 6th and 7th last night around 11 pm and came across the following ridiculous typed note taped to a bicycle seat. The bike was locked to a street cleaning sign next to the street:"

" 'Please chain your bike to a different location,' the note read in 18-point Times New Roman. 'We've checked and we are liable if anyone trips over your biked and falls on our property. Thank you for your understanding.' "

The blog entry on The Daily Slope is itself a kind of summary of the discussion-board kerfuffle that ensued. I found myself drawn in, beyond all reason, to the teapot-spanning tempest, watching with fascination as people actually argued both sides of this patently ludicrous case.

And here, perhaps, I should clarify: in the absence of more complete information, my reaction is that we have a rather...overbearing sort of person in our note-writer, here. That is to say, a crank. It reminded me of the notes that a moderately insane downstairs neighbor of Theresa's used to leave, back when she was living with a roommate in a building on Grand Army Plaza -- she took it upon herself to enforce various articles of the building's rules, relating to appearance, with exasperated missives to the effect that "THIS IS NOT DOGPATCH!!!!" In short, we appreciated her notes, on account of they were freakin' hilarious.

And ditto the lunatic yupster who can't abide by the sight of a bike chained to a street sign on the sidewalk near his house. In a community slightly less thin-skinned than our own, this would be treated as merely a sign of someone's yuk-inducingly obsessive relation to their frontage.

However, here on Respectable Street, mention of the note spawned a ...healthy ... debate about who was in the right, about whether the bike owner is being unfairly repressed by the probably-not-doing-his-part-to-fight-global-warming homeowner, or if, on the other hand, the beleagured householder isn't within his rights to stop Hippie Johnnie from creating the kind of dangerous sidewalk obstruction that makes a guy start to think about laying in some extra liability insurance. While the pro-bike party was perhaps more strongly represented, the anti-Hippie Johnnie forces made themselves heard. On the whole, it's just amazing how many people took this fragmentary absurdity seriously -- made it a touchstone for deeper resentments apparently coursing through our otherwise placid, tree-lined and stroller-jammed streets.

And that, itself, would be -- is, really -- a laff riot. Except that, as I witness all too frequently on the Park Slope Parents listserv, it's a regular occurence here, the usual phenomenon of Intarweb-powered arglebargle strangely magnified, focused, and rendered extra-repulsive by the sense one sometimes gets around here that the comfortable, moneyed-lefty lifestyle of our dear old Brownstone Brooklyn must be ever-defended from those who would detract (in whatever way) from our precious quality of life. As if, frankly, we aren't as a group very well ensconced in the damned catbird seat.

And -- last note of shame here -- by writing about it at length, I've simply proven how enmeshed I am in the local culture of self-regard. I guess I suck, too.