Chicken raising and other rudeness

What is it about us that makes us "suburbanites?" Surely, it's more than our proximity to Chicago. It's a way of life we share, a set of expectations for our homes, our lawns, our neighbors.

We like it quiet, so we create noise laws and, in the case of Elgin, threaten to impound the cars of those who would pump up the volume. We restrict construction to hours when most people are awake (sorry, night shifters.) We legislate the length of our lawns.

We welcome independence in our neighbors, but expect them also to respect ours. We expect others to meet certain standards of behavior as we do. So when someone veers too far from the norm, we get upset.

Consider the woman in Lakemoor who made planters out of discarded bathroom fixtures and put them in her front yard. More recently, consider the Schaumburg man who has been living in a car in his driveway since losing his home to foreclosure. We've even seen a movement to raise chickens in suburban back yards. And a Barrington Hills man has come under fire for having mountains of cut up trees and a dog kennel on his land. Each story has its own peculiarities.

In the case of John Wuerffel, the Schaumburg man who just lost a court case for keeping his home a mess inside and out, one must feel pity for a man who finds himself in a real dilemma. In some ways, this was out of his control.

In the case of Phil Maksymonko, he and his parents moved into a Barrington Hills home in the late 1950s in order to get away from the city. Then, some years ago, Maksymonko angered his neighbors when his girlfriend moved in - and brought with her a dog kennel business. More recently, he amassed piles of felled trees as high as 20 feet that spilled onto neighbors' lawns.

Barrington Hills is unlike most suburbs in that it requires lots of no smaller than 5 acres. While we understand the notion of using that kind of acreage to be oneself, one must remember that beyond the wall of timbers is a neighbor who has to look at it - and deal with whatever nests in it.

Then there is the issue of raising chickens in one's back yard. It's an idea borne of a desire to live off the land in one's own way, to control what goes into the chickens that lay the eggs, to teach kids about the circle of life. But what about the smell, the dirt chickens kick up? Their less desirable leave-behinds? Oh, and what about the clockwork crowing of the rooster? That's like tripping off the car alarm at dawn. Every day.

Unless you've been raising chickens for years and the suburbs have crept up to your back door, deciding to raise chickens now is one of the least suburban things you can do.

So before becoming a chicken farmer - or turning your lawn into a dog kennel or adorning your home with toilets or doing some other inconsiderate act - consider your neighbors. That's the suburban thing to do.