Okay, this is a thing: Historic Board Says Transformer Sculptures Can’t Remain In Georgetown. Gotta love
hysterical historical societies. 🙄
From the article: Optimus Prime may have survived a crash landing on pre-historic earth and the many battles with the Decepticons that followed, but he’s likely not going to escape the Old Georgetown Board alive.
“This really puts us in a position of having to look like the old curmudgeon bad guys and girls. But it’s certainly not appropriate for a historic district,” said H. Alan Brangman, chairman of the three-person Old Georgetown Board, speaking late Thursday afternoon.
This is why I’ve said that A) home ownership is a false sense of security and B) I will NEVER fucking live anywhere with a
hysterical historical society or home owner’s association. Screw that noise: both of these types of organizations are made up of stuffy white males and a couple of bitchy Karens who think that mayonnaise is too spicy, beige is too bright a color, and daisies are too exotic to be in someone’s yard. I’m not kidding.
I can remember the BS I heard about the
hysterical historical society back in NC: we had a home in the downtown area that was painted lavender. It looked really nice. The historical society demanded that the owner repaint it because it “didn’t fit” with the “historic” area. (This was NC. What kind of history were you guys preserving? Other than the kind that should come with an asterisk and a disclaimer saying that no one should ever repeat this racist crap and it’s illegal to own another human being?)
There was also the controversy over Wyland’s Whaling Wall that was going to be painted in the downtown area. You can imagine the wailing and gnashing of teeth made by the
hysterical historical society. It was downright embarrassing and made me wish that I had been born in an area that didn’t have its collective head ensconced in its back end. This was well over twenty years ago and it’s still embarrassing to think about.
Personally? If I had been that homeowner, the moment I heard about the BS, I would have quietly listed my house, sold it, then showed up at the meeting to say, “Oh, don’t worry. They’re gone. So am I. I sold the house to a dog rescue. Hope you don’t mind the noise.” Then I would have returned to my seat with a smile on my face.
Petty? Maybe. Undeserved? Nah.