April 2, 2024
I push the join button on Zoom and face 18 somber people on the screen, members of our cottagers’ association. Nobody speaks. With a look of expectation on their faces, they appear serious. I ask: can you hear me? Some say yes. I grab my glass of wine while Kathy brings our dinner at 7 pm. We decided to eat our dinner during the Zoom call.
Looking at the Zoom participants, I ask who is from Ottawa. A woman says she is 100 km from Ottawa in Madoc. Then I recognize Kit joining us from Florida, Ry, who lives in New Hampshire, and a few from Toronto. The association’s President lives in Toronto and called the Zoom meeting to discuss issues concerning the group.
A revised constitution and the transfer of land used as pathways from the island’s original owners to our cottagers’ association are on the agenda. These topics leave me cold; I have never been interested in constitutions, and the land transfer has no impact on our enjoyment of the island. We already have legal access to walk on the pathways with all other cottagers, so who owns it is irrelevant.
I would have been more interested in the Zoom call if the agenda had proposed some new activities and developments for the upcoming summer. Bureaucratic matters, especially constitutions, leave me cold, but I looked forward to seeing some cottage neighbors.
After tent camping and trailering, we bought the cottage a few decades ago, envisioning a permanent summer venue we could visit every weekend. It never involved Robert’s Rules and land transfers. It was “getting away” from urbanization and work. It had to do with living on a lakefront with all the lake’s benefits, like swimming, canoeing, kayaking, sailboarding, and even walking on the pathways in the back.
But here we are, having dinner with a glass of wine when the President puts the revised constitution on the screen and explains proposed changes. What a bore, except for a few quirky items. He says we could have more than the current membership class, consisting of property owners on the island.
Less than half of the current cottage owners belong to the association, and the President suggests we could have the non-paying cottagers become another class of members. Huh? What does that mean? Why should you be a member if you do not pay the membership fee and cannot vote? Some people on the island may not even be aware of the association, but we make them members?
But wait. The President also suggests another member class: people who do not even live on the island. Who could these people be? Relatives, potential cottage property buyers? I think we do not need these artificial membership classes.
Another peculiar suggestion the President makes to include in the constitution is that only people with no history of bankruptcy can serve on the association’s executive. Someone asks how we can filter these individuals out of consideration. How can we ascertain that the individual volunteering to serve on the Executive Committee has no bankruptcy history?
Concerning the pathways, I ask: Why transfer the land to the association when we have the legal right to walk on them? What are the benefits? I do not get a response to my question or to the other question, whether owning the land would require liability insurance, which would cost dearly and increase the membership fee.
However, there seems to be momentum to proceed with the land transfer, mainly from the executive members. There appears to be wind in their sails; I am unsure what drives their motivation. They promise to follow up on suggestions from the 19 members of the association logging in.
I leave the Zoom meeting with mixed feelings. When we bought a cottage on an island, we thought we had left bureaucracy behind in the city. But bureaucracy follows us today and is burgeoning, with big-city people coming to our island and developing big-city organizations with rules and regulations. I may have to reconsider joining the association for next year.
andrasthehun.ca 