This morning I was shoveling in front of our house. An older gentleman walking his dog passed on the street. "Good morning!" I called. "I can't tell if I'm hitting the sidewalk, but at least it's a path."

"Is it?" he responded.

Last year Lone Tree considered a statute requiring sidewalk-clearing within 24 hours of a storm. I know similar laws or homeowners' association requirements exist in many municipalities, but does that make it a good idea? Maybe having teenagers makes me keenly aware of the futility enforcing a unified concept of responsibility.

While I'm generally a rule follower, others delighting in rule enforcement make me uncomfortable. I suppose somebody has to do it or we head down that slippery slope to hell in a handbasket. Actually, we could probably approximate that on my driveway this morning.

Visiting my parents in Phoenix last week, we attempted following the many regulations regarding their pool. Seventeen years ago, my father proudly showed the communal area to my toddler.

"When you are potty-trained," he observed, "you can swim in our pool."

My son appeared to consider the offer, deciding it wasn't worth the effort. "Grandpa," he asked at last, "are you potty-trained?"

Apparently the homeowners' association also reflected on this issue for a retirement community pool. Now pre-potty-trained children are allowed with swim diapers, as are all incontinent users.

Underage guest pool access is limited to a few afternoon hours and one hour in the evening. Interested residents asked whether my kids took their mandatory rinsing shower and if they were old enough for the hot tub. About fifteen minutes before user time expired, people dressed in sweats and jackets started walking by, looking at their watches.

Years before, when my brother and I relaxed in the hot tub following my dad's heart surgery, a security guard appeared, checking a nearby homeowner's suspicious activity report. It was before closing time. We weren't running on the pool deck, consuming cocktails or soda in glass containers or talking loudly. My brother even has white hair.

I'm not sure how much trouble teenagers cause at Lone Tree's Cook Creek Pool, but we do have a lot of them driving here. Also, the occasional visiting grandparents park and hook up their RVs. As a result, on-street parking restrictions were discussed at the last Lone Tree Council meeting. These extra vehicles are unlikely to bring down property values. They aren't resting on blocks in the front yard like my Uncle Butch's, since I doubt many teenagers know how to work on an automobile anymore.

The Police Chief commented that parking guidelines exist in Lone Tree, but are generally evoked by neighbors bearing grudges or involved in long-standing disputes. I suppose every neighborhood has its Hatfields and McCoys.

My favorite solution is: rather than involving authorities, just complain about people who annoy you to your friends over lunch.