A short one today, as I just finished a 17-hour gig. Goodnight!

Randall Alexander took raking leaves in his yard very seriously.

As he meticulously raked the final leaves into an enormous pile in front of the house, he couldn’t understand why everyone else in the HOA didn’t take it as seriously as he did. Keeping one’s yard properly raked, was, both a matter of pride in one’s property and – because of Randall himself, a very important rule in the Mountain Shadows Homeowners Association. The rule had been on the books forever, but Randall felt so strongly about it that when he became HOA president two years ago, he immediately began swift and rigorous enforcement. More than a dozen errant leaves on a resident’s lawn constituted a violation and Randall levied fines liberally for leaf scofflaws.

As he drew some more leaves into the pile he thought about Abe Johnson, the old man who died last year around this time. He had a heart attack in his front yard. His widow, Josephine, openly blamed Randall because Abe was out raking leaves lest he suffer another fine. While Randall felt bad for Abe, he didn’t blame himself. If Abe had just kept up with raking, then he wouldn’t have exerted himself into a heart attack. Really, Abe had no one to blame but himself.

As he stared at the three-foot-tall pile of leaves in front of him he sighed appreciatively at a job well done.

Until the pile erupted into a geyser of leaves violently flying all over the yard by some localized hurricane-forced wind! Randall stared confused as to where this small cyclone came from when the day had been so still. As the wind subsided Randall ground his teeth in fury as the yard lay blanketed under the leaves and his work had been in vain.

Then another gale out of nowhere rustled the leaves in the tree and caused a new cascade of leaves onto the already leaf-strewn lawn.

Randall let out a cry of frustration which was met by the disembodied hearty laugh of Abe Johnson.