There's an Outside Chance that Hick Might Be on the News, or Cooling His Heels at the Crossbars Hilton

Let the record show that Hick has always aspired to be a land baron. He grew up with nothing, and has done pretty well for himself. It didn't happen overnight. Hick began his quest by buying tax sale property.

I remember it well, crossing the blacktop parking lot between my townhouse building and Hick's apartment building, to chat with him while he sat on top of the apartment complex picnic table, perusing the tax sale list in the local paper. It didn't hurt that he was grilling hot dogs on a Weber, playing a country radio station on his blue Chevy Citation (with one red fender) radio with its windows down.

Hick's concentration was often broken by a car driving by to the newest apartment building across the little creek. "Huh. I know that guy. He must have got out. Robbed a bank." Or by something in the paper itself. "I can't believe that old lady died. I ran over her one time with the city truck."

One of the first pieces of property, in fact THE first property Hick purchased was a strip of land along a blacktop business route near my old high school (where I was VALEDICTORIAN, let's not forget). We (other apartment dwellers and I) used to tease Hick that he could plant spaghetti on his "farm." It wasn't even a full lot, and cost him about $50 thirty years ago.

Since that time, we have faithfully paid the taxes on it every year (less than $2), because, you know, Hick wouldn't want someone buying it right out from under him on the courthouse steps if it went three years delinquent. About 20 years ago, a guy built a car repair business on the curve that Hick's property borders. Hick wasn't all that thrilled, but wasn't upset, either. His strip of land was still there, and somebody, either the Repair Baron or the highway department, trimmed the weeds every summer.

NOW Hick has branched out into the political arena, campaigning for a local county clerk candidate, and has the idea of putting a campaign sign on "his" property. He went by, and noticed that Repair Baron had blacktopped over his strip of property.

Hick went to city hall to make sure they had a record that he owned this strip of land. They did, and gave him a copy. They said Hick could put any sign he wanted on there, but no billboards. So Hick set off on the journey of five blocks from city hall to the Repair Baron's business, to inform him of the impending signage.

The Repair Baron wasn't there, but his wife was in the shop. Hick explained how he owns that strip, and sees how it's now been blacktopped, and has the corner of a garage sitting on it. He relayed his intention of putting up some signs, and Repair Wife said that they were planning to put a sign for that very candidate there anyway. Everything seemed agreeable when Hick left.

NOW Hick says he plans to ask Repair Baron to buy that property from Hick for $500. "He's already using it like it's his. But if I wanted to cause problems, I could! He's blacktopped and built on land that's not his. If you really look at it, I think he's also on the highway department right-of-way. They might be interested to find that out..."

"There you go, causing trouble. It's not hurting anything. You can't do anything with that land. You're not using it. I don't think he's going to pay your $500."

"I might ask for $750, because I imagine he'll want to talk me down!"

"I guess you could always build a fence on it, which would block the sight of his business. And put whatever signs on it you wanted. Maybe ads for a competitor."

"He's been using it all these years for nothing. I think he'll pay just to have it done with. Or I might tell him that if he'll fix the two rust spots on my 1980 Toronado for free, I'll call it even, and sign the property over to him."

Always a scheme percolating in Hick's noggin.