I lived under my silver tarp. The HOA management company didn't respond to my email, likely assuming my threat to install a copper roof was just an unhinged bluff. They cashed my $500 check, though. Brenda walked past my house every single morning on her power walks, glaring at the tarp, clearly keeping a mental tally of the days she assumed she'd be fining me again once the 24-hour grace period expired.
She had no idea the storm that was coming.
On the morning of the 10th day, the peace of Whispering Pines was shattered. At exactly 7:00 a. m., the legally permissible start time for residential construction, the ground literally shook. I walked out onto my porch holding a mug of coffee. Rolling down the pristine, quiet, beige street was a convoy.
Two massive diesel-spewing flatbed trucks, followed by Mike's matte black F-350, and a trailing box truck full of specialized metalworking equipment. The flatbeds were loaded with massive wooden crates, and peaking out from the slats of those crates was the unmistakable, blinding gleam of raw, virgin copper. Mike parked his truck, stepped out, and took a deep breath of the morning air. He was wearing a welding cap backwards and a pair of heavily tinted safety glasses.
His crew, four guys who looked like they brawled in biker bars for cardio, jumped out of the box truck and immediately started setting up saw horses and metal brakes on my front lawn."Showtime, kid." Mike yelled over the roar of the diesel engines. It didn't take long. Within 15 minutes, the air was filled with the deafening sound of circular saws cutting through timber crates and the sharp metallic clang of copper sheets being unloaded.
At 7:20 a. m., the clicking of orthotic sandals approached at a dead sprint. Brenda came power walking around the corner, her face flushed, her clipboard practically welded to her hand. She stopped dead in her tracks at the end of my driveway, staring in absolute horror at the industrial staging ground my lawn had become."Jack!" she shrieked, her voice cracking."What is the meaning of this? What are these industrial vehicles doing on community property?" I took a slow sip of my coffee."Morning, Brenda. They aren't on community property.
They are parked legally on the street and in my driveway. They're dropping off my roofing materials." She marched forward, dodging a heavily tattooed man carrying a 10-foot sheet of metal. She peered at the metal. As she did, the morning sun hit the copper, reflecting a beam of pure golden light directly into her eyes.
She hissed and recoiled, throwing her hand up to shield her face."What is that?" she demanded."That is not desert sand asphalt." "No, Brenda. It's natural unpainted Class A standing seam copper, just like I informed the board 10 days ago." Her mouth opened and closed a few times, like a fish out of water. "you can't do this.
I'm issuing an immediate stop work order. This is an egregious violation of the architectural aesthetic. It's an eyesore. It's a hazard." Mike, who was standing near the front door, walked over.
He looked down at Brenda, crossed his massive arms, and smiled."Ma'am, we have pulled all necessary municipal permits from the city of Scottsdale. The city approved the material. Unless you have a court injunction signed by a judge, you are trespassing in an active construction zone, which is a massive liability. Brenda turned her fury onto Mike."I am the president of the Whispering Pines Homeowners Association.
I am the authority here. "And I'm the guy holding the nail gun. Mike deadpanned."Jack, do you want her on the property? "Not particularly.
I said. Brenda was shaking with rage.
She whipped out her cell phone."I am calling the police. You are running an illegal industrial smelting operation in a residential neighborhood. You're both going to jail. She stomped back to the edge of the property line, stabbing her finger into her phone screen."Think the cops will shut us down?
Mike asked, watching her."Not a chance. I replied, pulling the laminated copy of the CC&Rs and my city permit out of my back pocket. I did the math. Let them come.
20 minutes later, a Scottsdale Police Department cruiser rolled slowly down the street, its lights flashing silently. Officer Martinez, a tired-looking guy in his late 30s, who looked like he had seen way too much suburban drama in his career, stepped out of the car. Brenda immediately ambushed him. She was practically vibrating, pointing frantically at my house, the trucks, and the gleaming stacks of copper."Officer, thank God!" she gasped."You have to arrest them. They are destroying the neighborhood. They are violating HOA ordinances.
They have heavy machinery and that metal is blinding." Officer Martinez put a hand up to stop her tirade. He walked slowly up my driveway, his hand resting casually on his duty belt. He looked at the massive stacks of copper. He looked at Mike's crew, who had paused their work to watch.
Then, he looked at me."Morning." Martinez said, sighing heavily."Sir, I got a call about an illegal industrial operation and a public nuisance." "Morning, officer." I said calmly, stepping forward and handing him the paperwork."Here is the approved building permit from the city of Scottsdale, specifically authorizing the installation of a standing seam metal roof at this address.
And here is a laminated copy of the HOA's founding declarations, specifically Article 4, Section 3, which grants me the permanent, vested legal right to install this exact material without board approval." Martinez took the papers. He read the city permit first. It was perfectly in order. And then he read the highlighted section of the CC&Rs. He read it twice.
He slowly lowered the papers and looked at the copper. Then he looked at Brenda, who was standing behind him, looking triumphant."Ma'am. Officer Martinez said, his voice flat."Yes, officer? "Are you going to handcuff them?
"Ma'am, this is a civil dispute regarding a contract. Martinez said, handing the papers back to me."He has a valid city permit for the construction. The materials are entirely legal to possess and install. Being tacky or having a dispute over a homeowner's association rulebook is not a criminal offense.
"But it's blinding! Brenda protested, pointing at the glare."Then don't look directly at it, ma'am. Martinez said smoothly."I advise you to take this up in civil court if you feel the contract has been breached. But if you call 911 again for a non-emergency regarding legal home renovations, I will cite you for misuse of the emergency dispatch system.
Do you understand? Brenda looked like she had been struck by lightning. The color drained from her face, leaving her a pale, furious mask.
She didn't say another word. She turned and marched back to her house across the street, slamming her front door so hard I heard the glass rattle from my driveway. Officer Martinez turned back to me. He looked at the house, then at the massive pile of copper.