No sooner than the left-over Thanksgiving turkey became turkey tetrazini and the mashed potatoes become potato pancakes, did I see Santa appear on the neighbor’s lawn with his amazing reindeer; plus, garland with twinkling lights to adorn Southern porches. As y’all know, Black Friday has now taken on a new name, Black-and-Blue Friday. Thank God I wasn’t foolish enough to join the masses that fought over electronics, electronics and electronics. “What?” you say. Is there anything else people are buying for Christmas? Not according to the sales flyers!

Anyhoo, I got my ducks in a row, or rather, my cheese and crackers in a row, and planned a little Open House myself. Not ALL by myself — my friend, Peggy, was going to co-host. The object of this soiree was to get to know our neighbors (about two-hundred homes), have a little whine-and-cheese, and debut a small but profitable business with Peggy, my business partner. The date and time were set, the party food was purchased, the house was cleaned and the invitation was placed on our public bulletin board where we patio-home owners pick up mail. Because RSVP was plainly typed, I came home and awaited the calls. Statistics say that 10% of folks respond to invitations such as these, so I expected about twenty phone calls. The phone did not ring.     

The next day I noticed my flyer was gone — taken down, but why? I called the HOA (home owner association) president who told me to check with another board member who had also had notices removed. I called him and he said it was true, his fish fry flyers (dontcha love that alliteration?) were removed, but he diligently placed a new one up every day until the event came. He suggested I do the same. Game on!

That night I worked on a new flyer and this time, I put it in a sleeve protector. I thought if the perpetrator was a recycler (ha, fat chance!) he/she wouldn’t dare throw away my page protector. I was not disappointed. However, later that day, a sign appeared from a stranger with its OWN page protector, saying, something to the effect of ‘we are not allowed to park company cars in our driveway and was I not also violating a solicitation ordinance’? Huh? My first thought was “Am I living in America, land of the free and brave?” And no, I did not read my HOA rules (so many pages long!) when I moved in because I thought I knew all about those rules: such as, no one is allowed to harbor farm animals — cows, chicken or pigs. Also, things like, you can’t add on a bedroom even if you are the Duggers and expecting your twenty-ninth child. And of course, no cars on blocks.

I went out of town and when I came home I had a message from the HOA president. She is a sweet Southern lady that reminds me of my mother. I realize she was only doing her duty when she apologized with the bad news: I could not host my Christmas Open House because I would be promoting my new business. “It’s on page 16,” she said. She encouraged me to attend the next board meeting (what a shame, I’ll be on my six-day cruise.)

So, even though I am a humorist, I am having trouble mustering up any laughter with this situation. In summary, this is what I learned: no one can host a party of any kind where orders are given or taken (hush, y’all, I can still boss Russell around and vice-versa!). That means no more parties for Tupperware, Silpada, Mary Kay or Pampered Chef. Also, it means if you are working for a commercial enterprise, say, Time-Warner, you must park your car in your garage! I guess the HOA considers this a “sign.” Yeah, I’d say so, a sign to get packing for my aforementioned cruise, where there are no rigid rules and a party atmosphere is encouraged!