No Place for Yuccas

Here’s a photo of the first house I ever owned - bought it in the fall of 1998.

 

First House

It sat on a corner lot, and at the corner of the front lawn sitting under the stop sign was a great big yucca plant.

 

I hated that plant: it was a pain to trim, it didn’t belong, it wasn’t attractive, and it was a pedestrian hazard.

 

I kept telling myself that I needed to just cut it up, but I never got around to it.

 

One day the doorbell rang.

 

I opened the door and made the introduction of my neighbor, a decent and polite chap who apologized for what his sons had done.

 

“They know that what they did was wrong, and I told them that they had to own up to it and say they’re sorry to you,” he said. “They’re afraid of how you’ll respond, so they asked me to explain what happened first.”

 

“OK," I replied, baffled at this introduction. “What did they do?”

 

He pointed to what was left of the yucca plant at the corner.

 

The thing looked like it had been ripped apart with a blunt machete.

 

“They took a couple of sticks and tore into your plant,” the kindly chap continued. “I asked them why they did it, but they just said they didn’t know.”

 

I suppressed my smile, took a deep breath, and then said as seriously as I could manage, “OK, send them over so that I can talk to them.”

 

The two sheepish lads approached my front door, their father looking on sternly. I reminded them of the need to respect other people’s property, and I told them to promise never to do anything like that again.

 

“Yes sir,” they said. “We’re sorry.”

 

“Well, I was a young fellow once too,” I said. “Just clean up the mess you made, and we’ll put this behind us.”

 

“Yes, sir,” they said then turned to remove all the debris under their father’s attention.

 

I dug up the stump soon after.

 

Adam’s Needles stood so tall,

Spiky stalks that never fall.

Two young lads with naught to do,

Whacked it ’til it no more grew.

 

 Adam's Needles