Our hardworking, middle class family finally pulls in enough to buy our little piece of the aina and here you come, Mr. Dot-Commer-Silicone Valley Cash-out. You started by clearing your spot with three straight weeks of tree-cutting and grinding while you wandered up and down the road introducing yourself and asking what we have growing in our yards. Then came the building: you insisted on your cottage being “nestled” in the corner of your property, which just happens to be as close as possible be to our lot line (yes, I measured) and our home. Your porch looks directly into my children’s bedroom. As such, your kitchen light keeps them awake at night because you refuse to buy window coverings. Then we had seven days a week of tap-tap-tapping as your poor workers covered your entire structure with the skeletal remains of dead sea creatures. Your rudeness and cluelessness is amazing and insulting. You even had the nerve to wonder aloud why we wouldn’t want to come swim in your pool. Thanks, but our inflatable will do just fine. By the way, hanging Tibetan flags does not make you righteous.