A Lincoln Sculpture Is a "Bust"

I'm taking a momentary break from commenting here on politics - and yes, I'll talk about how wonderfully well Kamala Harris and Tim Walz are doing - but this blog post is more personal.

Let me set things up.  Over a decade ago, a group of middle-school girls turned the town-owned vacant lot behind my house into a community park.  Called Waverly Park because its southern end borders Waverly Place, a short street that no one lives on, existing only to connect parallel avenues, the park has been enjoyed by local residents since its founding in 2013 but has not always been well-kept.  In fact, in the past couple of years, it was neglected so much that it turned back into a plain old back lot, with no plantings to beautify it and only one amenity - a bench overlooking a culvert entrance for the brook that bisects the lot.

This year, I took steps to revitalizing the park, starting with repainting the lettering on a "Waverly Park" sign that the girls made back in 2013.   I blazed a trail through the forested eastern side of the brook, planted flowers in seven different locations in the open western side of the brook, added a spur trail to connect the main trail and the street, added plastic chairs along the western bank of the brook, and added three trailhead markers that were originally legs from a table that someone had thrown out.  I even added a picnic table that I no longer needed but didn't want to throw out.     

But the biggest installation was yet to come.  back in June, I decided that everything I had done to revitalize the park said, "This is a park."  I needed something to say, "This is a park!"  I needed something to create the proper mood . . . a piece of public art. 

I went online for ideas and found bust sculptures for sale, including one of Abraham Lincoln.  That was it - I bought a Lincoln bust and also bought a pedestal in the guise of a Roman column on which to mount it.  The bust took nearly two months to make (they were made to order) and send to me, and when I finally got it, I took the bust, which was made out of fiberglass, and glued it to the pedestal, made of a similar material, with epoxy.  I also got a gray-white brick engraved with Lincoln's surname, an American flag, and a one-foot-square paving stone to put in front of it.

Here is the result.

I installed the art work this past Sunday (August 11) and I was proud of it.

Note past tense.

Yesterday (August 14), I received an e-mail from the director of my town's public works department relaying complaints the town had received from neighbors who objected to the Lincoln bust and ordering me to remove it immediately.  He said that even though the park had been started by the neighborhood and was developed by the residents without any help or input from the town apart from mowing the grassy field (visible behind the bust), the town still owns the land and has the right to reject any object placed there for decoration.  So Abe had to go.

What really hurt was that I had invited two friends from another town nearby to the park to see the sculpture.  They loved the whole park, and they loved the sculpture.  But the bust was there at the pleasure of the town officers and the neighbors, all of whom expressed displeasure and would not allow it.

Here is the site now.

I left the flowers I planted in the corners of the square block I made for the pedestal to mount in.  In the center, which can barely be seen here if seen at all, is a Japanese maple sapling one inch tall, which I got from my yard.  I removed the brick and found another use for the paving stone.

Oh yeah,  I was also ordered to remove the plastic chairs, which hadn't been a problem before.

I want to tell you all about the town of West Caldwell, New Jersey, where this was all happening here, it's a classic postwar suburban bedroom community that is, by nature, soporific.  The two friends I mentioned are from nearby Montclair, an arts community that prides itself on it jazz and film festivals and, yes, its public art in the form of modern sculptures in its own parks, so naturally they appreciated my contribution to Waverly Park as well as all of the other amenities I'd installed.  But the locals in West Caldwell are obviously, seeing as they're bedroom suburbanites who don't get a lot of action, philistines who dislike anything offbeat or interesting in their own neighborhoods to brighten up the landscape.  This art installation cost me over four hundred dollars, and now I've had to put the bust and its accoutrements in storage - my hard-earned money down the drain.  I'm now looking to see if anyone else in the area is interested in accepting the sculpture as a gift.      

While I have vowed to move to Canada if Trump is returned to power, I have already left West Caldwell.  I still live in a house that happens to be in West Caldwell, but I don't feel like I belong to what passes for the community.  I am done with trying to contribute to this town in any way, shape or form.  I have already decided that Waverly Park will be much less of a concern going forward.  Next year - assuming Kamala Harris is President, of course - I will restrict plantings in the park to just one six-pack of marigolds and one six-pack of impatiens, and I plan to reduce the number of flower beds from seven to two.  Up to now, my efforts to beautify the park had been appreciated, but when it became apparent that no one wanted a Lincoln bust there - despite the total absence of public art not just in West Caldwell but in adjacent communities as well - I didn't want to bother anymore.  I'm only planning to plant a dozen flowers next year so the park doesn't look like a total mess because, hey, I still have to live next to it.

One final kiss-off.  I just quit a Facebook group called "I Love Living In the Caldwells."

Because I don't.