I've owned my apartment since 1990. I was 41 when I moved in to a building with a high proportion of owner occupiers and even higher proportion of geriatric residents. It was then, as now, a well maintained building with a stable Executive Committee whose composition only seemed to change upon the death of a committee member.
The two neighbours on my floor when I arrived were widows aged 92 and 77 both of whom departed the building through death. Over the years another two neighbours on my floor also ended their residence there through death, both aged in their late 80s. You can imagine the shock to the system when a married couple in their 30s spent a year on my floor and had a baby in that time. It was, I think, the first time in my nineteen years that a baby had lived in the building.
Well, going back to 1990 I was dragooned onto the Executive Committee within months, no doubt seen as young meat to bring innovation, energy and new thinking to the place. It was never likely to be. I am not an innovative thinker, I am not domestically inclined or aware and I have no aptitude for handy man activities and therefore not someone to come up with interesting ideas for building maintenance and improvements.
I muddled along on the committee for about fifteen years being re-elected, along with the rest of the committee, without opposition each year. The only way of leaving the committee seemed to be death; one committee member finally departing aged 101 and another at a relatively youthful 88. Despite its average age and the lack of any meaningful input from me the committee has always been active and effective thanks in great part to the President, a retired University Professor, the Secretary, a spinster retired school teacher and a third member, a retired Commonwealth Public Servant who, no doubt by virtue of his former career, is right into systems, detail and regulations.
Then, three years ago I did the unthinkable and refused to stand for re-election. It was an awkward moment mostly because no-one had done so in living memory and no-one seemed quite sure how to react. The remainder of the committee was duly re-elected and they continued on for three years until last month at the AGM when the now youngest committee member evidently emboldened by my precedent declined to stand again for this year.
I sat there at the AGM silently mulling over this show of bravery and minding my own business when I was I brought back from the reverie to discover that in that moment of day dreaming I had been nominated and elected onto the committee again.
Drat. Here I go again.
On the bright side, it appears that living in your building is the secret to a long life?
ReplyDeleteMy partner just sat through three hour meeting last night. These are monthly, usually two and half hours. AGM next month and partner is urging me to run again after an absence of a few years. But I find I can be more effective not on the committee. I don't have the patience for long meetings.
ReplyDeleteIt is a good thing you are doing Victor, btw. It shows care for your property.
ReplyDeleteMost meetings are just a drain on one's psyche. When I was working, it seemed that I spent 90% of my time in meetings, either with staff or in front of the city council. Ick.
ReplyDeleteLooking back, I realize that they didn't pay me enough.
Perhaps outside of building maintenance, you may want to look into how your development is marketed so that you can get a higher proportion of young blood in the building...and more eye candy for you. Or does the general populace of Sydney look at your development as a senior development? If you don't have one already, invest in an exercise facility on-site.
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