Whenever I bite into something that tastes good, I usually quickly learn that it’s bad for my health—it’s either going to clog my arteries or give me cancer. That’s bad news for a person who is a recovering junk food junky. But why is it I find that all the food that is good for me tastes so horrible—food such as broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots? I’ve come to a simple conclusion: if it tastes good, it’s bad, if it tastes bad, it’s good. That’s pretty simple.
Would this same theory also help make sense of some of the ever-mounting piles of laws, regulations, and ordinances that are slowly taking control of our lives in Vermont, including here in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom? It seems like any activity that might bring joy to one person, another person wants to ban. Few of these restrictions have any sound reasoning behind them. It just doesn’t seem like the Vermont way. I understand people who want to restrict activities that are truly harmful to people or the environment, but I think we’ve gotten to the point where we want to ban things for the sake of banning them, or because we don’t personally take part in the activity.
If I didn’t laugh about some of these regulations, I don’t know what I would do. Maybe pack my bags and move to a mountaintop somewhere? Most likely somebody would find some way to legislate me off my perch.

One group recently successfully lobbied against jet skis on Lake Willoughby. The next logical step in my mind is to now ban motorboats, especially the ones spinning circles in the lake as they pull water skiers. Why not ban ice fishermen from driving their vehicles on the lake during the winter?

And while we’re at it, let’s consider banning Harley-Davidson motorcycles from passing down Route 5, along the lake between Mt. Pisgah and Mt. Hor. After all, most Harleys are very loud and disturbing to the peace and tranquility of any area—far more than the minuscule number of jet skis that were ever used on the lake. Besides that, I’m sure the anti-Harley folks could manage to blame the landslides that occur along that stretch of road on the roar and vibration of the Harleys.
There are other people who hope to tighten regulations about snowmobiles and all terrain vehicles. Others would like nothing better than to ban hunting—yet many of these same people seem to have no problem eating a thick sirloin steak.
Each day the newspapers seem to announce plans for another ordinance or law that somebody has dreamed up to “save” the Kingdom, although few of us feel we need saving. We need to do something to unravel this mess of rules so we can know when we’re breaking them. Contemplating the matter, I think I have come up with a unique way to succeed at this. Use my example about food: When I put something in my mouth and it tastes good, I pretty much know that it is bad for me. Wouldn’t the same philosophy work with the regulations that are now gaining control of our lives? If we’re doing something that makes us feel good, or brings us joy, we know we must be breaking some type of ordinance, so then we can self-correct our behavior, or redirect our behavior to a joyless activity.
Let’s just ban joy all together, or if we’re not going to ban joy, can’t somebody dream up other, less joyful things to ban, such as mowing the lawn or cleaning the house?
“Freedom and Unity” is Vermont’s motto, one that I appreciate very much, but like many other people in the Northeast Kingdom, I also find myself living by the motto of New Hampshire—“Live Free or Die.”