NIMBYs (Not In My Back Yard)s

It had to happen, the furious backlash. Years of rising house prices everywhere but particularly here in the capital have forced even moderately well paid folk to scout surrounding satellite towns and villages for cheaper and -lets face it- larger homes. But now the locals -born and bred types, are furious and up in arms. I half expect pitchforks and burning bushes to be approaching Hamilton Osbourne King estate agents as we speak, led no doubt by the village elders of poor terrified rural Ireland.
Last week some dude from Monaghan Council was bleating on about the country side being destroyed by people from 'Santry and Rathgar' (why he picked these two areas is somewhat of a mystery). He railed against the idea that people might come from the city(spit spit) and have the audacity to settle in his area. He spoke eloquently of the destruction of the community, the sliding standards of village life.
He was a classic NIMBY.
Last might my own mother joined the swelling ranks of that much maligned band of sweethearts who just want to preserve their lives at all costs.
'They're building eighteen more houses in Oakwood!' She spluttered in between biting the heads off jellybabies.
'Eighteen, oh my.' I said, patting my cheesecake stuffed belly.
'And you can be sure it will be for blow ins.'
'Will that be a stipulation in the sales? Only blow-ins need apply.'
'Oh you're so sharp it's a wonder you don't cut yourself.' She sniffed loudly and pressed on, 'Locals won't be able to afford those houses.'and that other crowd have bought fifteen acres of road fronted land down in Ashfield, I bet you they won't be turned down by the planning board!'
I should point out that my mother is incensed by the board's decision to refuse her PP on a site she wanted to flog at a very high price to an retired English couple two years ago. If you ask her she will claim the Board did it out of spite and not-as was the reason given- because the entrance to the site was on a blind corner. She will also claim that said retired Engish couple were locals because the man-who had lived in England for fifty five years- had lived in our village for a brief preiod in his youth, ergo local and his wife local by proxy.
'It's disgusting, what's happening down here. They come here, but work there. They're driving up the house prices.'
'People have to live somewhere. Folk from the country live in the city all the time, you don't see us crying about it.'
'Us? Oh do you hear her, us.'
'Yeah, us, us folk that live up here.'
'That's different.'
'How?'
'They don't even try to blend in.'
'Blend in? Like camouflage? Is there a dress code?'
'Very unfriendly too, they'd hardly look up or down at you either.'
'Golly I can't imagine why that would be...perhaps they don't like being called blow- ins and being blamed for the death of the Irish Countryside, maybe that's it? Whatcha reckon?'
'I knew you'd take that side.'
'What side?'
'Any side that disagreed with me!'
'Ma, I have to go, Medium is about to start.'
'Are you still coming to Dundrum with me on Wednesday?'
'Sure, make sure you bring your passport.'
'My passport?'
'You know, for coming up here to the city. You need a passport for crossing into foreign lands. They might not let you back into the countryside without it.'
She hung up on me.
I watched Medium.