Neighborhood watch

I go the back way (i.e., not using I-280, like my sat-nav system expects) to get to my orthopod in Saratoga—an upscale community here in the Valley They Call Silicon.

Well, most of them are upscale, or at least ruinously expensive. But Saratoga, a mostly residential town, reminds me a lot of certain towns in The Valley (San Fernando—remember “Valley Girl”?). South of the Boulevard, of course.

There can’t be any property in Saratoga that sells for less than $2M (and that would be a scraper), and most of the homeowners don’t seem to care about the multi-year drought. You could play polo on some of the front yards, they’re that big and that green. I keep hearing echoes of Marie Antoinette as I drive through in third gear (because there are stop signs at every intersection). Or maybe it’s Madame de Pompadour. It’s certainly someone who doesn’t give a toss about conserving water.

However, I’m not here to discuss #droughtshaming, which is actually a thing here. No, as I was poking along the street I noticed this configuration of mail boxes. (Because obviously no letter carrier is going to drive up 200 yards to poke post through a letter slot.)

And I wondered what the story might be behind the mine’s-bigger-and-more-secure-than-yours schtick?

Apparently there's no HOA regulation regarding uniformity of mail boxes.