Squatter's Halloween

A house party in Utah begs one question: will the cops wait until midnight to crash and shut it down due to a noise ordinance or bust through at eleven?

These wild and crazy parties I attend seem mild. No one drinks until they pass out, no exchanges of illegal substances, edited music drifts from the dance room and I’ve never seen a broken glass egg. A glorified dinner party or twelve-year-old girl’s birthday, complete with fun size candy bars.

The shock lies in the venue. I’ve wondered how people my age continue to throw faux parties in glamorous homes mountainside homes. The parties perfectly planned out, right down to the removal of nearly all furniture and valuables. No family portraits on the wall. No grandfather clock from Germany, books in the study, throw blankets, coasters, magazines, magnets on the fridge, nothing that makes a home homey. Model homes look warm and inviting in comparison.

But I’m there for the Halloween festivities so I dismiss the unease of a cold home and embrace the luxury warehouse party location. Until I hear a snatch of conversation. Squatter’s Rights. What I imagined to be an old out-dated law (like no sneezing in public in Ashville) is actually a claim to the title of land. Apparently my party throwing miscreants are law abiding citizens. They just enjoy twisting obscure laws to fit their purposes. Or not twisting.

Legally a person can storm the castle, set up residence and fly their flag to gain ownership. Harsh, cruel and inconsiderate, hostile you could say. And that’s a requirement for squatters. To take over a home the squatter must do so on hostile terms, meaning the actual owner doesn’t want that occupant around. There are other rules but the CliffsNotes version goes something like this:

Enter evicted home. Move in furniture and stock fridge. Plant flowers, mow grass, trim trees. Bare teeth at owner. Introduce yourself to neighbors. Growl at owner. Live continuously in home. Defy owner and claim land.

Knowing this my thoughts turn to a home I remember well in Castleknock—Huntington, Out Farm Lane. My €3 million mansion remains unoccupied. I was one of the last to live there and I’m ready for a hostile take over.


http://www.lloyddaly.ie/propertiesview.php?house_id=195