No, I'm not talking about the Sox and the Rays.  Today was the Spring All-Garden Meeting for the Fenway Garden Society, and it promised to be a dramatic one.   The new board has apparently been pretty aggressive in enforcing certain rules and regulations, particularly height-restrictions on shrubs and trees in individual gardens, and it's got some of the gardeners all riled up. 

I have not had any run-ins with the new board's chainsaw-wielding henchmen, but Tony had some unsolicited assistance earlier this year trimming the magnificent rose-clematis combo on his fence.  It will come as no surprise to any of you with even a casual acquaintance with Tony to hear that he was quite literally hopping mad about it, too. (Despite this, Tony didn't show up at this morning's meeting.  His griping privileges have therefore been revoked.) 

And while none of my shrubs (two lilacs, a rose of sharon, and a fur) have been targeted for pollarding I was personally summoned by several other senior gardeners, who called me on my bat phone urging me to join La Résistance.  It looked like it was going to be a bloodbath.

And, indeed, there were some testy exchanges between officers of the Ancien Régime and la Terreur.  But the new President had come prepared.  He knew that the hot-button issue would be the board's unyielding demand that gardeners comply with tree and shrub height restrictions as stated in the Society's bylaws, and I have to say he was pretty effective in squashing dissent.

The board's position was hard to refute.  They claimed to have had run-ins with representatives from the several City, State, and Federal authorities who claim jurisdiction over different areas and aspects of the park, and who all have power, ultimately, to dictate important aspects of the Gardens' fate.  The Fenway Victory Gardens have always existed in a bureaucratic clusterfuck.  It's apparently the Historic Parks Department that has taken umbrage at the flagrant and rampant violation of height protocols.

I've always been under the impression that the five-foot maximum height restriction is a safety issue.  As it was explained to me, its purpose is to eliminate hiding places for rogues, rascals, and the various and sundry would-be evildoers who are usually quite content to roam the park in plain view. I'm certainly not opposed to public safety, plus clear sight-lines make for much easier cruising anywhere in the park. 

For those who protested, the President of the FGS ominously reminded gardeners that back in the day they used to plow the whole thing under every year.  He warned that if allies in the Parks Department weren't properly placated, Fenway gardeners could lose their unique privileges.  No other community garden has individual plots the size of ours, each with its own fence and gate.  He even went so far as to say that there were those who would love to see the gardens themselves, which they consider an eyesore, disappear.

But come on.  Is this an eyesore?...


Still, the not-too-veiled threat of having our fences ripped out, and our gardens plowed under annually was enough to strike terror into the hearts of all but the most hardened revolutionaries. 

It was Leo Romero, a section of whose garden (which he tends with partner Iory Allison) is pictured above, who spoke up.  Leo and Iory are true master gardeners, and Elder Statesmen of the FGS.  When the President suggested one word from the Historical Parks Commissioner and the bulldozers would be called out, Leo said, "it's true they used to plow it under every year, but that's when it used to be one big vegetable garden for the war effort.  The war ended in 1945!" 

And he's right.  Hardly anyone grows vegetables in the Fenway anymore.  Not only is the soil of questionable content, but theft is rampant.  The truth is, removal of the fences around individual plots would spell the end of the Fenway Victory Gardens.  I think everyone knows that.  Still, taken as a whole, the Gardens definitely have a funky old Fenway vibe on a good day, and look like a rural shanty town on a bad one.  Individual gardens like Iory and Leo's redeem us all, but who knows what the place will look like in another twenty-five years, if adherence to the bylaws, which is still pretty liberal now, were to grow more and more lax?

Especially with the neighborhood going seriously upscale, I could definitely see an overzealous City official or a much less community garden-friendly mayor than Menino moving ahead with leveling the lot.  I am inclined to agree with the board that now is the time to cultivate good relations with various organizations that hold the Gardens' fate in their hands. 

But it seems to me, after all is said and done, that the board should start by cultivating good relations with its members.  I get the feeling that's really what the brouhaha was all about.