‘Just do exactly what we say to do; it’s for your own good, you know’

By David McElroy · June 28, 2012

When I was younger, one of my neighbors came over and said he had something important to talk about.

“I have good news,” he said as he waved a piece of paper. “I’ve just signed the neighborhood constitution. It’s going to keep you safe and free. You’re not going to have to worry about a thing, because I’m going to take care of you. Best of all, I’m protecting you against attacks from space aliens.”

I’d never considered the notion that I needed to worry about being attacked by space aliens, but the more I thought about it, well, it seemed like a good idea to have someone protect me from them. And Mr. Madison seemed so sincere, so I figured he must be right.

Not much changed at first. I went on living my life and kept to myself. Every now and then Mr. Madison would tell me that I needed to change something about my house or my yard, but it was no big deal. Mostly I was relieved because the aliens hadn’t attacked.

Mr. Madison couldn’t do all of the protecting and ordering himself, so he deputized members of his family to help out. He only appointed the best, of course, so they had my best interests at heart. That’s what they told me, anyway.

I had a rock fence on one side of my yard that I’d built myself, and I was pretty proud of it. But Mr. Madison’s son, Franklin, came along and told me that the rock fence wasn’t safe. He said I might be walking near it and it could suddenly fall. I reminded him that it had been standing for awhile and nothing had happened to it, but he said he understood more about these complicated things than I do, so I needed to comply.

I really hated to get rid of that fence, but I new that the Madisons knew more about things than I did. Besides, we had that neighborhood constitution that said he could tell me what to do, so I figured they were right. I tore down the stone wall and replaced it with a chain link fence, one sold by a nice man who Mr. Madison recommended.

After that, the Madisons started finding more things that needed to be changed. Another son, Lyndon, came over one day and said they had decided I was too poor to take care of myself properly, so they were going to start making my decisions about which doctor to go to and how much to pay him, but they were going to help out with the cost, too. I had been perfectly happy with my old doctor — the one who had always come to my house — but the Madisons know more than I do about these complicated things.

Not long ago, Mr. Madison came over and told me that he had decided I needed to buy a car. I was confused, because I don’t need a car. I live in the city, so I take buses where I want to go. I couldn’t afford to buy a car and I didn’t see why I needed one.

“You just do exactly what we say to do,” Mr. Madison said. “It’s for your own good, you know.”

Well, I didn’t like this one bit, so I reminded Mr. Madison of something in his neighborhood constitution that said I had the right to appeal his decision. I told him that’s what I wanted to do.

“That’s certainly your right, son,” he said in a kindly way. I could tell that he cares a lot about me.

Mr. Madison said his wife, Sandra, was the appeals judge. That seemed fair, because she could read the neighborhood constitution and she would certainly see that it didn’t say anything about making me buy anything.

This morning, Mr. Madison came over with Sandra to tell me her decision. And they had another man with them.

“You need to buy a car,” she said. “It’s part of our commitment to taking care of you. But here’s the good news. This is Mr. Sloan. He has a car lot and he’s going to sell you a car. So you don’t have to worry yourself about it. We’ve already decided everything.”

I still didn’t think I needed a car, so I wasn’t especially happy, but they had that piece of paper that said they could tell me what to do, so who was I to argue? I bought the car, but I haven’t used it yet.

All in all, this neighborhood constitution has been a great arrangement, even if there have been a few bumps along the way. Best of all, Mr. Madison has kept his biggest promise. I still haven’t been abducted by space aliens.

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