My partner and I attended our annual condo association meeting earlier this week, which was as thrilling as you imagine. Maybe watching your neighbors complain vociferously can instill a sense of community in some folks, but that's not how I experience it. Sigh. I've been to most of the quarterly HOA meetings, so I suspected what it would be like, but having missed last year's annual meeting (I had a rehearsal that night), I didn't realize that there would be more than twice the number of usual complaints.
It felt like the real-life equivalent of all the public forum meetings on "Parks & Rec": Nothing but grievances. Grievances all the way down. There were so many grievances you'd think Festivus came early this year.
Yes, some of these complaints are legit. I can't deny that. The management company our building uses isn't very responsive, and yes, insurance and repair costs are rising. But complaining (at length) that you were singled out for a suspected marijuana violation because you have long hair? Maybe save that beef for a strongly worded email, my lion-maned friend.
(As an aside, a while ago, some naive soul moved into our building without realizing that all of their old, white neighbors were, in stereotypical fashion, legit narcs. Someone complained about a pot smell, the management company sent out stern notices, and the new people discovered edibles -- or so I assume, as the odor immediately disappeared. It was, as they say, a nothing burger, yet people are still complaining about it months later. I'm just relieved that no one called the cops.)
Someone also protested the removal of the "no children under age 16 allowed as residents" language from the original 1983 bylaws, even though it was taken out because it's illegal. AND the person complaining that the "no kids allowed" clause was removed bought their condo specifically to get their own child into a good school district. HE LITERALLY SAID SO. He didn't want other people with kids moving into the building, but his own kid magically didn't count.
This is the level of cognitive dissonance we're dealing with at these meetings.
Attendance was so low that we failed to reach a quorum of owners, so we couldn't accept the minutes from the last meeting that had a quorum, nor could we vote on board members. They've been trying to accept those minutes for three years, and it might be a long slog, as one of the items of business from the 2019 minutes was to accept the previous minutes from a meeting with a full quorum… which apparently took place in 2008. We even have a higher-than-average owner occupancy rate, so this is kind of mind-blowing. Will it take more than a decade to accept these new minutes? Will we ever reach quorum again? Only time will tell!
I could say something deep and meaningful about a lack of community engagement and maybe bring in a quote from Robert D. Putnam's Bowling Alone, but I have no real conclusions to make here. In fact, this newsletter reads like my own grievance. Instead of shouting it at the condo board, I've shared it here with you. Season's Greetings! You're welcome.
Actually, I do have one last thought: Our annual HOA meeting is held at a Greek Orthodox church right down the street. Because no one could figure out how to turn off the speaker playing that evening's church service, I spent a good portion of the evening listening to the cantor instead of the complaints. He had a beautiful voice. The end!
(40/42)
Hahahahaa! Couldn't accept the minutes had me rolling. Mine are a bunch of HOAholes
It's really incredible, a mix of red tape, antiquated ways of doing things, general disinterest from residents ranging from avoiding current issues, to probably years of being jaded by balderdash, lots and lots of complaints, what a perfect representation of real world politics 🤔😅& this is what happens when people are actively participating/ trying to get things done.
The being singled out for having long hair was the🍒on top. The technical difficulties were surreal, very, this could be a short film feels.