An Address on the State of Emotional Affairs at Fernbrook Resort Freelton

Have you ever seen that cartoon where some poor schmo is walking his dog down the street and a piano lands on the dog walker’s head? Resulting in a large pointy bump with stars and tweeting birds floating around the injury? I always figured that if that guy had just walked down another street then he wouldn’t have been hit by that piano. You can’t blame him for the bump… but he has to take responsibility for choosing to walk down that particular street when he could have walked down any other and remained bump free.

It was his choice.

And that’s my simple philosophy.

Man up to the consequences of the choices you make.

And what does that have to do with the state of affairs at Fernbrook Resort in Freelton.

Well, there is a neighbour at Fernbrook who has been mouthing off to another neighbour over the course of the last year. Snide comments and smart remarks. In a notably feeble attempt to put that family in their ‘place’. Perhaps to show who’s their better so to speak.

But a funny thing happened.

The neighbour who was the target of the verbal assaults, after a long stoic period, finally decided to return the verbal barrage. Sending a scathing and embarrassing barrage right back at the attacker.

And so what did the attacker do?

Return the salvo perhaps?

Nope.

Instead the attacker starts playing the poor victim. Oh alas poor me is the repeated plaintive cry of this injured neighbour. Woe. Woe. Woe. Why? Why? Why?

Yeah, that’s right, instead of owning up and admitting to instigating the current state of affairs… the attacker has begun acting like the aggrieved party.

Has been going around squeaking bloody murder.

Saying that they are somewhat surprised at the sudden state of affairs and can find no good reason. “What a Jerk!” is this neighbour’s repeated cry. Though has found some sympathy among the easily swayed.

As a spectator to this tempest in a teapot is if you can’t stand the heat then you should stay out of the kitchen. Or, hey, you made the bad choice so you gotta take the bitter medicine. And how about, don’t pick a fight then complain when you end up with a few bruises.

Cock-a-doodle if you can’t take it then perhaps you shouldn’t be dishing it out.