To this day, I remember my first encounter with a tattletale, whose name is disguised as RF. I was in Miss Snell’s second grade class, when RF raised his hand and proudly proclaimed, “Him, him, and her are chewing up cardboard and spitting it on the floor!” Yes, Meice, Ernie, and I were doing that and were forced to gather up our transgression and deposit the slimy wads in the wastebasket. I’ve loathed RF from that day forward.

Today, there’s a new surreptitious group of tattletales; I’m not talking about whistle blowers like Erin Brockovich, who actually bring down bad guys. I’m talking about nosy Nancys and obnoxious Home Owner Associations (HOA’s,) who patrol their neighborhoods. The nosy Nancy’s hide behind curtains and blinds or slink along walls. They’ve neither the forthrightness, nor the courage to confront face-to-face the perpetrator of their grievance. Instead, they anonymously report to the manager of their apartment complex that Unit 123 plays loud music, or unit 515 has guests under 55 years of age playing pickleball on the court. In fact, senior citizens’ communities rank number 2 in my book; these residents obviously have too much time and choose to police their neighbors. They even complain about their next-door neighbor’s tree blowing leaves into another’s swimming pool. Ye Gods! Get a life!

My number 1 Tattletale goes to HOA’s! A mean, vitriolic, nasty group charged with the enormous responsibility of enforcing the quasi-laws of the neighborhood. Sometimes as many as four or five members, armed with pens and clipboards walk the sidewalks looking for violations. House number 513 has weeds in the front lawn; house number 408’s garage door is not the color of beige required; the spa on House number 285’s patio is full of algae. Additionally, the HOA Board holds monthly meetings to hear further complaints and of course, draft more and more rules. (I think they’re trying to compete with the IRS to see who can have the most rules.)

Finally, the egos of HOA Board members are out of control; they view themselves of great importance as they wield their power. Poor Mrs. Johnson is routinely confronted for her barking dog or for her untrimmed roses, not to mention Old Man Miller who frequently forgets to take in his garbage can after the trash truck has emptied it. And on top of all of this, is the monthly HOA fee. A fee, which rarely remains the same from year to year. When the all-powerful board decides a new piece of state-of-the- art, exercise bike is needed for the workout gym, the assessment is raised. Their newest fad is adding pickleball courts, replete with lighting and a tiered grandstand. And again, the assessment is raised.

I sincerely hope I never end up living in a place overrun with tattlers!