Doing The Right Thing: Why Bother?

For the first time in 3 years, ours is not the only house on the block undergoing some type of renovation/construction.  As I took my son to preschool yesterday morning I noticed a house under major renovation.   In the driveway was enough plywood  and 2x4 lumber to stand at least 4 feet tall, a large dumpster, and porta potty.  (I admit it, I'm jealous.  I wish Bob & the gang used a porta potty instead of my house).

As I drove by I slowed down to see if I could figure out what they were doing.  A large section of their roof was gone, old insulation covered the lawn, and it was clear they were adding a room over their garage.  On the way back from dropping off Max, I regarded the house again and it occurred to me, "Wait a second, where are the permits?"

On Long Island, certainly our township, (not sure if this is the case across the country or not) you are required to get a permit for just about anything you want to do to your house.  On the one hand, how incredibly annoying to ask for permission to do something to your own house.  On the other, some people are clueless and might build an apartment building next to you--so it's there for our own protection. 

Once you file for a petition, you must post large signs every 75 feet around your property listing the date/time of the hearing before the zoning board (so people can come and complain and say they don't think you deserve an extra bathroom in your house).  In addition, you must mail a notice (which is HAND DELIVERED by the postman) letting everyone within 200 feet of your house about your plans. 

I never saw a sign on their property.  There was no notice mailed to me.  There is no visible permit sign in their window.  MY permit cost me a tremendous amount of money and grueling time delays.   I remember our fear in INSULATING the extension before getting the inspection done for fear of jumping the gun (and subsequently having to deal with the grumpy inspector and beg him not to get too angry).  Meanwhile my 2 year old has freakin' pneumonia and the house is maintaining a balmy 57 degrees.

Do I sound bitter?  Do I?