A 68-year-old couple on a cul-de-sac in baby-booming Highlands Ranch has been dealt a setback in their campaign to keep kids from playing in the cul-de-sac.
It seems that it’s illegal for kids to be playing in the street, so faced with hordes of annoying children in this bedroom community, the Zickerts were spending their day calling the sherriff and getting the parents of about two dozen families cited. Over and over again. Complete with surveillance cameras.
“I don’t understand why they need to play in the street. Streets are for cars,” Fran Zickert says.
In turn, the Zickerts claim, they’ve been subjected to curses, scrawled “I hate you” messages in their driveway, and moonings.
Douglas County commissioners, who have to have been wondering if there were some real county business to work on, have ended up identifying the cul-de-sac as a “play street,” which means that kids can legally play in it, so long as they clear the way for cars in 20 seconds, and keep equipment (backboards and street hockey nets) by the curb.
Now, maybe I’m an unusual freak of nurture. I grew up on a cul-de-sac. I played in a cul-de-sac. I, for one, assume that when driving through a residential neighborhood, there will likely be kids playing in the street, and I adjust my speed and attention accordingly. I don’t look on this as some sort of Lord of the Flies scenario, but as, well, part of life, something to expect, something natural and even to be encouraged. Aren’t we always ragging on our kids for sitting in their rooms watching TV or playing video games?
Not that it’s a license to run out into the freeway or anything, and not that I expect to not verbally lambaste Katherine over her street-playing behavior. But that’s part of the tension and education of growing up: learning that rules are not absolutes, but that you’re expected sometimes to use your judgement. While the results sometime aren’t pretty, and, yes, can be tragic, the results of not teach that lesson are even worse.
The Zickerts aren’t impressed by the decision. Too bad. They claim that they have ten grandchildren, and love spending time with them.
I wonder if they’ve polled their grandkids about the matter. Or their kids, for that matter.
More commentary on both side of the dispute here and here. I have to say I find the “The Law is the Law, Dammit” attitude very illuminating; it’s part and parcel of the whole “Let’s exercise no discretion and judgement, let’s just set rules and then zap the hapless types that step over them” idea behind Zero Tolerance legislation in general.
Sounds like these folks need to move to one of those “adults only” communities, where they can lead lives free from annoying whippersnappers.
I’d hate to say that anyone should have to move — but it does make you wonder why they moved into a neighborhood characterized by families.
Living on a cul-de-sac where my neighbors sometimes stack park accross the street so that I can barely back out of my driveway, and the police aren’t interested in ticketing cuz “they do need to park somewhere” it’s hard to be totally sympathtic.
Plus, Dave there are cul-de-sacs and there are cul-de-sacs. You lived near on cul-de-sac of a reasonable long street, where traffic couldn’t really sneak up on you; my entire street is a circle of asphalt and many locals us my street to pull a U-turn as a high rate of speed. I wouldn’t kids playing on the space.
It might be a good question to ask what the kids options are for play space. I get sort of ticked at teenagers who throw footballs in the street when there’s a perfectly good park just over a block away.
I too grew up on a cul-de-sac, one surrounding by families with small children. Granted, we didn’t have maniacs doing high-speed U-turns through our toys; for us it was a safe and natural place to play. The kids would walk out of their various front doors, and meet in the middle. Duh!
But we also had our own high-tension elderly person to deal with. Her complaint was all of the high-pitched unnecessary screaming that kids make when they’re running around in circles (or whatever moronic game we’d invented as kids).
But she never called the cops on us. Her solution was much more elegant: If we’d play without screaming for an hour, she’d give us one of those tiny coca-colas that they used to make, and some kind of grandma-esque treat. Plus, she was NICE to us, and we wanted to please her.
The Zickert’s have blown all their options by informing on the kids. Once you become the “mean old people” on the street, you never ever shake off the reputation. Wait’ll these kids are teens: think toilet paper and trees.
Kids shrieking versus kids screaming.
There is a difference, any parent can tell you.
I dislike the kids on my block that have taught all the kids around here to scream during play. Gets my back up something fierce, because I am – day in and day out – suppresses the reaction to run out there and and see what is WRONG.
Of course, when I told them they should reserve screaming for when they need help, or are injured, they told me saucily: My mother doesn’t care if we scream.
Which was illustrated in its fullness when the boy fell off his bike and gashed his knee… the mother was inthe house and had to be fetched by the boy’s friend. I’m four houses down the row, standing in my driveway, wondering if I should go and see how bad it was. She, in her living room ten steps away, couldn’t be bothered.
What, me stressed?