BY-LAW 5.8

In 1994 the co-op passed a Domestic Violence By-law.  In lieu of a restraining order, bail or an actual conviction of domestic violence, the co-op would pay up to $300.00 for a panel of three outside professionals to determine if domestic violence had occurred.  In that case, the co-op would evict the 'guilty' person in one day.  Because of the potential repercussions of this controversial bylaw, my husband and I asked a reporter to attend our All Members Meeting, but the Board of Directors wouldn't allow her to stay.

The complaint against the accused could be made by a third party and before a Court of Law could determine whether that person was guilty or not, the co-op could have evicted that person.   To challenge our new self-policing technique, I decided to offer myself up to the co-op as a guilty party and submitted my confession to our newsletter committee.  After it was published some members earnestly approached me to ask if it had actually happened.  Here's the article:

*****

 DIARY ENTRY - February 23, 1994

Dear Co-op:

I had a fight with my husband last night - Oh, I know that I should have told you earlier but things got way out of hand.  It was that time of month again, uh, no, I guess I mean the big "M" (s-h-sh are you ready?  MENOPAUSE!) was partially responsible.

Well, anyhow the fur was really flying, children screaming, husband recoiling, cats hiding, fish fleeing ...  Listen, Dear Heart, you and I need only know what really happened, so lend an ear and please draw closer.

It happened on Tuesday night, right after Roseanne (I don't know why that T.V. show affects me so adversely) - I suddenly flew into a rage, and while I was in mid-air turmoil my right fist caught the jaw of my shy, retiring husband.  I began to spin again and this time my sleeve got caught on a vase of flowers. In yanking it free I knocked over a lamp, and with it slid a pile of books onto the floor.  This added fuel to the fire, so I stormed off upstairs to continue my fit in the privacy of my own room.

Once safely ensconced in my room my tantrum was intercepted by furious, frantic rapping upon my window pane.  I couldn't see too well in the night darkness, so I cautiously slid open the window to investigate further. THWAP, and with a huge sucking sound thousands of gnome-like creatures infiltrated my room. Three of these creatures assumed an air of authority in that they kind of hung in mid-air in front of me challenging me to address them nose-to-nose, so to speak.

Startled, trembling and gasping to regain my composure I sputtered "W-H-O ARE YOU AND W-H-A-T DO YOU WANT?" "We are the FILBERTY FROPS" they chorused in unison "and you have infused Filberty's air with unspeakable unmentionables, in addition to the nasty little pranks you've been pulling on your husband lately."  I began to get a little annoyed with the arrogant attitude of these feisty, lewd creatures, and so I queried them as to the veracity of what they were saying.  "R - E - MEMBER the time when you tried to scrape dead scales off your husband's back with a dull potato peeler?" cried the taller FROP with a sardonic smile.  "OR, better still, the time when you singed the hairs on your husband's legs (while he was sleeping, I might add) so the hairs would not pierce you like an S.O.S. soap pad when sleeping in the spoon position . . .  or of the time when you put red dye in his shaving cream  . . ."

"FOUL" I protested, trying to ward off the hundreds of these aliens which were now swarming all over my body clamouring for a foothold.  "FOUL AND BE DONE WITH YOU" they bellowed into my ears (for they could make themselves small enough to fit into my ear canal).  The constant buzzing sent me reeling down the stairs and out my front door.  "ONWARD HO!- TO THE TASK AT HAND!" ordered the spokes-FROP as they literally poked, prodded and pushed me down the street.  My resistance was steadfast, but try as I might, I could not withstand the tremendous force of their gnome-power.  When at last we arrived at the gateway to the hydro swamp the Filberty FROPS extricated themselves from my body and stood row upon row positioning themselves with great precision. A clone of the first spokes-FROP, with an authoritative commanding voice bent on breaking all sound barriers, then shouted out the following command:

WE HEREBY PRONOUNCE YOU BANISHED FROM THIS CO-OP UNTIL YOU RECEIVE ILLUMINATION REGARDING YOUR DESPICABLE BEHAVIOUR.

Then, Dear Heart, a miracle happened. It may have been a result of the sound barrier being broken or a divine intervention by forces unknown, for there was a tremendous power surge. Electrical sparks showered down on me, filling my every pore with titillating grace.  I felt tingly and warm all over. AND . . . YES, YES I HAD AN ILLUMINATION.

Somehow I floated sublimely back into my bed . . . now I need no longer sleep on my hands to control my troublesome impulses, for I have surrendered myself completely to the knowing ONENESS of the Filberty FROPS. Sometimes as the FROPS pass by, they gently tap on my window to reassure me of their presence.  As I ponder my new-found wholeness in life, I see apparitions of a sign soon to be erected at the entrance to Filberty Co-op - I nod in reverence to it. As I gently fall asleep I murmur softly to myself "Domestic Violence Free Zone, Domestic Violence Free Zone".  Like a gentle breeze it rejuvenates and cleanses my soul. And with that, Dear Friend, I must leave you tonight.  In peace and contentment I bid you lovingly, Adieu.

*****

By-law 5.8 remains in effect to this day and to my knowledge has never been used.