To Build A Doghouse - (A short satire on the costs & regulation of new construction...)
Snoopy moved with his master, Charlie, to sunny California; once the family was installed in their home, Snoopy needed a place to sleep, too. Being partial to the outdoors, Snoopy looked around the yard and found a perfect spot for his doghouse. He indicated to Charlie what he wanted. Charlie gathered some planks of unused plywood from the alley. He walked to the hardware store, and bought a $5 sack of nails. Back at home, Charlie borrowed his dad’s hammer and a hand saw; it being sunny and warm the boy started working on the doghouse. Snoopy sat nearby, watching.
A white pickup truck with city plates drove by; the truck screeched to a halt, and a tall man with a clipboard got out. He was from the all knowing, all seeing Building Department. He pointed at Charlie and spoke to him about his project.
“I need a permit?” Charlie asked. “But, this is a doghouse, sir.” The man from the Building Department spoke again, indicating his clipboard.
“Plan review?” Charlie asked. “I don’t have plans, sir. An architect? Separate land parcel? Foundation? Stick frame? R-30 insulation? Energy code? Sewer system... sir, he’s a dog, he goes in the yard. Hazardous waste? EPA? Good grief....”
After a long talk and several pamphlets, the man from the Building Department left. Charlie put away his tools and the plywood and went in the house; he got out the large phone book. He called many architects before finding one who would design plans for a doghouse.
“Yes? Can you design plans for a doghouse, sir? Yes, sir. Thank you. I will come by and get them in an hour.” Charlie found the city assessor’s office in the phone book and talked to someone who transferred him. Eventually he was told it would be $5,000 to have the land parceled for the doghouse and that such a move must be approved by the City Council. The City council rep told Charlie that in order to be approved, several forms would need to be filled out; once it was added to the agenda, the Council would approve it by a majority vote... in three months.
A knock came at the door; opening it, Charlie saw a fireman standing on the porch with a clipboard and a pamphlet. With a large smile, he asked Charlie questions about his project.
“Yes, sir... I am building a doghouse for my dog. Fire assessment fees? $2,500? Sanctuary of safety? Yes sir... safety is important. How many rooms? Just one, sir. Smoke alarm? Fire sprinklers every seven feet? Greenbelt? Wild land-urban interface? Water-retaining shrubs? Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
No sooner had the door closed on the fire assessor, than there came another knock on Charlie’s door. A woman stood outside on the porch, narrow glasses perched on her nose; she, too, had a clipboard and several pamphlets. She asked Charlie about his project.
“Yes, ma’am,” Charlie said. “I am building a doghouse. School assessment fees? He’s a dog, ma’am, he does not go to school. Community pride? Education welfare? Test score statistics? I suppose so, ma’am. $5,000 assessment fee? I hope my dog will get a good education out of that, ma’am. You don’t know? Thank you, ma’am.”
While Charlie waited for the doghouse plans to be drawn up, the water and sewer department came by with pamphlets of their own; the assessment for water/sewer connections and water meter install was $10,000. The utility company also came by and gave Charlie their assessment for gas/electric/meter hookup; $10,000.
His brain whirling with numbers and regulations, Charlie took a bus to the architect’s office, downtown. He stood at the architect’s desk while the man quickly drew four or five lines with his CAD program and printed out seven copies. With a big stamp, the architect marked each page and rolled the plans up.
“Do I take this to the Building Department?” Charlie asked. “Plan Review? Yes, sir. How much are the plans sir? $2,500? I have $22.00 in my piggy bank sir. Come back when I have $2,500? Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Without plans, Charlie took a bus to the City Building. At the entrance, he was wanded by security guards for weapons; he did not have any so they let him in. Charlie looked around for the Building Department; it took him some time to locate it. Eventually, he saw a lobby with many people sitting in it, waiting. Charlie got a number from the ticket dispenser and sat down. He waited in the lobby a long, long time. Finally his number was called. The woman behind the counter asked Charlie several questions.
“Charlie, ma’am,” he said. “I need information on leaving plans for approval. How do I spell Charlie? C-h-a-r-l-i-e. Yes, ma’am. I need to go to Plan review? Oh. Can you tell me where that office is ma’am? Thank you, ma’am.” Charlie walked to the Plan Review counter. He waited in the lobby there even longer; finally, he was called to the counter.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “My name is Charlie, I to submit doghouse plans for review, once I can pay for plans to be made. Yes, ma’am? How do I spell Charlie? C-h-a-r-l-i-e. Yes, ma’am. There is a submission fee for new construction? Yes, it is new, but it is only a doghouse. The minimum fee for new construction is $25,000? No ma’am. I’ll wait for now. Thank you.”
Back at home, Charlie sat on his porch where Snoopy was sleeping in the sun. He saw his friend Lucy walk up with her little brother, Linus.
“Hello Charlie,” said Lucy. “What are you doing today?” Charlie told her all he’d seen that day and all that the inspectors, assessors, architects, officials and reps had told him.
“Good grief!” said Linus. “That’s $60,000... not including building materials and labor!”
“If you build Snoopy a house, made sure it’s a ‘green’ house,” Lucy told him.
“A green house?” Charlie repeated. “I guess I could paint it green.”
“No, you blockhead. Build a house that won’t hurt the environment in any way: rain-collection gutter system, renewable material insulation, non-lead paints, recycled building materials, eco-friendly sewer system, solar panels on the roof and recycled finishing materials.” Charlie was surprised.
“How much will all that be?” he asked. Lucy brought out several pamphlets and a calculator. After a few minutes of pressing buttons, she looked up.
“$30,000,” she said.
“Good grief!" Charlie said, staring at his feet.
“It’s a small price to pay to help the environment,” said Lucy. “Your solar panels will pay for themselves in 50 years.”
“Good luck Charlie,” Linus said, as they walked away. “Make sure you get builder’s insurance, and hire a security company to protect the job-site at night.”
Frustrated, Charlie called the one person in the city whom he thought could help him: the Mayor. The secretary heard his story and patched him right through. The mayor listened to Charlie’s long, sad tale.
“You can help me, sir?” Charlie said, hopefully. “Really? I can build right away? That is great, sir! I only need to do what? Donate to your charitable foundation? How much, sir? There is a $50,000 minimum donation? I see, sir. No, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Charlie realized he would not be able to pay all these fees, building costs and donations unless he sold the piece of land with the future-new doghouse on it. Calling a realtor, Charlie faxed them a crude drawing of what the doghouse would look like and the size of the planned parcel. The realtor called him back saying property values were down and he would be only able to sell the parcel and doghouse for $5.
Taking out his piggy bank, Charlie took out his $22. Taking his money, he went to the hardware store and bought a recycled plastic doghouse. Bringing it home, Charlie put it in the yard, and lined the bottom of it with all the pamphlets. Snoopy bounded inside, turned around three times and promptly went to sleep.
The End
by Stephen Wayne Greene & Meredith Greene
