A cold wind blew outside. Holed up in my toasty office, I was contemplating how grateful I was to no longer have to endure the agony associated with getting the feeling back in my numb digits so I could work the climbing rope and resume the task at hand on a sub-freezing day.

One of 11 stumps at the scene of the crime on Boston’s North Shore. All photos courtesy of the author.

A call from my estimable colleague, Dave, stirred me from my reverie about the “good old days.” He had received a request from a potential client in my neck of the woods. Dave, likely cozied up by the wood stove in his own man cave, wasn’t up for the travel, so he foisted the job on me.

He explained the scenario. It was a trespass case involving the removal of a small number of trees and potential damage to a few shrubs. He cautioned that the individual he spoke with might be a bit challenging, but I still agreed to contact the potential client and discuss the matter. I imagined Dave releasing himself of all responsibility, letting it all go and drifting off in his La-Z-Boy.

The hand-drawn maps and directives supplied by the client, along with a little Googling of the site, suggested this might not be a worthwhile endeavor. I contacted the individual and delivered my standard spiel in these situations.

• Can you negotiate directly with the perpetrator to try and reach an accord?
• The value of the loss may not be worth the cost to determine and litigate it. My compensation is exceptional (I think), lawyers’ compensations are lavish (I know).
• Litigation, along with the stress and financial burdens that follow, may go on for years.
• If tenable, would it not be best to invest your resources in replacement plants or other solutions?

Unfortunately, these cases are often about vengeance, and equanimity has hooked up with Elvis and left the building. At this point, I may or may not accept the assignment. If I do accept, I emphasize that:

• I will require a retainer.
• I am not in the role of an advocate.
• I will remain objective.
• You may not like or agree with the value I determine.

I delivered an earnest sales pitch, but could not talk the client out of pursuing the matter. I agreed to visit the site and discuss my observations for a fee before committing to a contract.
I arrived at the site on a cold, windy winter day. The ground was bare, rock hard and slick. The client and her partner greeted me outside and directed me toward the cutting.

The surrounding foliage-challenged trees told a different story than that of the prospective client.

We stood in the back corner of the house. There were no windows or living areas here to speak of. The lot sloped down to the street, and a narrow line of vegetation separated the properties with a formal planting area near the bottom. A recently built retaining wall on the neighboring property was clearly visible.

At the scene of the crime, about 11 stumps, most in the 2-inch range, the largest 4 inches, protruded from an area of maybe 50 square feet near the retaining wall. The client was not sure exactly which ones were recently cut. Typical of the surrounding tree species in the wood line, I observed two red maple, one red oak and several white pine stumps.

There had been multiple pruning events. Dieback was evident in the unbalanced, thinning upper crown.

The client insisted they were mostly hardwood trees in vibrant condition and had provided exceptional screening. The surrounding foliage-challenged trees regarded each other with crowns agape, and the tell-tale stumps shook their stubby remains in disagreement. I pointed out the still-tacky sap from the stumps of recent living-when-cut pines, and the gray, desiccated appearance of dead or
previously cut ones. I pontificated on the relevance of the condition of neighboring trees and the importance of location and function in the appraisal equation – to no avail.

I soon found myself in a ridiculous argument about what was what. My fingers were beginning to disassociate from the rest of me, and I was becoming exasperated. Then I remembered that I was old and did not have to be there.

I diplomatically (OK, maybe not so much) opined that we were not likely to enjoy an affable client-consultant relationship, wished them a good day and excused myself from the premises.

I turned and gracefully crab-walked down the slope to my car, hoping not to need my now useless hands to break a fall. “Thanks for nothing!” bellowed the dissatisfied victim. Wait, what? Nothing? One hour of driving time, 30 minutes explaining why I believed their quest to be futile, frozen phalanges and no compensation. I began turning to unleash a witty reply, but my jaw was beginning to freeze up, averting an incendiary, though likely unintelligible, comeback. Just as well.

I reached for the door handle with my frozen paddles and gratefully entered my safe place. I started her up, drove a few blocks and pulled over, whimpering in pain while my fingers regained blood flow.

When I regained my composure, I gave Dave a ring to thank him for the referral. After a quick rant, we were yukking it up, another satisfied client.

As a bonus kick in the trousers, Dave forwarded me a message he received from the client a few days later. It contained all kinds of mean and nasty things, concluding that Dave should take note of my transgressions and not refer me in the future.

A man of integrity, Dave immediately denounced my repute… kidding. He did write a leveled reply, defending my capabilities and professionalism (creative license here) and suggesting that listening to my sage advice would likely save her from wasting resources.

All I got was a verbal spanking and some frostbite. Oh well, no good deed goes unpunished.

Oops, I think I did it again
Saugus, Massachusetts. Home of Kowloons, the Orange Dinosaur, Prince Pizzaria (featuring the “Leaning Tower of Pizza”) and the once-renowned and now defunct Hilltop Steak House, where the bigger-than-life plastic bovines grazing in the pastoral fields by Route 1 were frequently abducted and usually returned or found in random spots throughout the North Shore of Massachusetts.

So, why not enjoy the ride to Saugus to do an assessment on a street tree growing close to the client’s domicile?

The Orange Dinosaur on Route 1 in Saugus, Mass.

The 26-inch silver maple growing under utility lines and near the house was rooted in a narrow planting strip. The still-solid root crown grasped the curbing and created pillow formations to improve stability. The solid trunk was divided into a multi-stemmed crown just below the utility lines. There had been multiple pruning events. Die-back was evident in the unbalanced, thinning upper crown, and long, over-extended lower limbs protruded above the street.

A portion of a dead scaffold limb had recently broken off and hit the house, though it caused no damage. We discussed pruning, management options, useful life expectancy, risk factors and mitigation.

When we were done, the client requested that I provide a written report that could be presented to the town’s “powers that be” to allow pruning to be performed on this tree. I agreed and asked for a retainer to at least cover the cost of that day’s services.

When asked if I took Venmo, I replied I did not. I didn’t even know what ailment I displayed that it treated. Once enlightened that Venmo was actually a banking app, I politely requested an old-fashioned paper IOU. Something was said about an unavailable checkbook, and up went the crimson banner.

The Kowloon Asian restaurant has been a cultural icon on Route 1 in Saugus, since at least 1963, and another decade before that as the Mandarin House.

I checked my con-calculator. The man seemed attentive to my observations and sincere in his intentions. Besides, he offered me some Venmo.

Rule #1, “Get the Money First” – broken.

I wrote a fine report with management options, color pictures with arrows and informative captions and pruning guidelines to mediate the identified risks. I sent it off along with an invoice and congratulated myself on another job well done.

A week or so later, I received an email from the client requesting that I correct a few things, primarily the house-number address that was incorrect in the header portion of the report. I did the editing and sent it along.

Time passed, and no payment. I emailed the client to find out what was up. He informed me he had not yet received the edited version, and he was right. I never sent the draft.

I immediately sent out the report and apologized in the light-hearted manner I try to employ. “Oops” I replied. My attempt at some benign humor backfired hard.

The 26-inch silver maple grew under utility lines and near the house. The client was looking for support for his request to the town to be allowed to prune it.

The client was not amused. A series of emails were exchanged where my integrity, honesty and professionalism were severely dissed. As I could not be trusted, he would only pay the invoice through some alternate fashion so I would not try to rip him off or claim I had not received payment. Wow! That was unexpected. I am flattered that he thinks I’m smart enough to pull off a scam like that!

I have a policy of not accepting payment from a dissatisfied client, so I not-so-graciously declined. He replied that he would hold onto the email as proof I absolved him of payment, lest I try to screw him somehow later.

“The Four Agreements” by Don Miguel Ruiz is a guide to life I try to abide, but I still go astray daily.

• Be impeccable with your word. “Impeccable.” I had to look it up. That’s a tall order. I was not clear on an agreement with the client for my services and probably should not have been so casual in response to my error.
• Don’t take things personally. My initial reaction to the accusations was righteous rage, so I waited a few days to respond, lest I might not be impeccable with my words. I have learned over time not to take everything most things personally. The client’s perspective of our interaction was just radically different from mine. I perceived the error as negligible, but he found the response to my gaff to be glib and felt disrespected.
• Don’t make assumptions. I try not to lose perspective of what is important. I often inject a little humor into my interactions with other humans, but it doesn’t always work out. This was a serious man, and the matter was obviously far more important to him than I assumed. Must have left my wisdom tooth at home.
• Always try your best. Granted, there are days your best is diddly, but you will have no misgivings if you at least give it your best shot.
• In this realm, I feel comfortable. “Do it right, or don’t do it at all” has always been a credo, and often a good reason not to do something. My interpersonal relationships with other humans could surely use some work, but I am confident in my attentiveness and perseverance to any project I have taken on.

At peace
So, another lesson learned. Again. At this age, I am happy to be ambulatory, lucid and still learning things, even if the moral is that I don’t know much. I hope I can continue to blossom like a desert flower and eventually try some Venmo.