As I drove through Belmont on my way to Microcenter
to buy a surge-protector to take to Konnarock, I
noted both on School Street and on Washington Street
the rocks, large and small that had been placed on
the sidewalk lawns. Obviously hyper-legalism had 
misled me; I am sorry and I apologize if my unasked
for legal opinion caused you distress.

That said, I explain to myself, - and whether I should
explain to you, I don't know - that I find the boulder
placement emblematic of a species of social assertiveness
that is uncongenial to me. When one places such a boulder
one says in effect that one is so prominent and valuable
a citizen that one can afford to break the law. I, on the
contrary, prefer to be inconspicuous, to accept the
circumstance that I am not a valuable citizen, and to
rely on punctilious compliance with the law, albeit in
the spirit of irony, and on my own legal skills, to protect
me from my neighbors who are all too ready to take advantage
of me. At the same time, I am mindful that the oversized
addition in Belmont and the Gropius-style house on Nantucket
are far more offensive to the neighbors than a pair of
measly boulders on the sidewalk would ever be.
Selfrighteousness is a remarkable phenomenon.

I am fascinated by your recitation of the Konnarock scene,
one of the "last great conflicts", as you denominate it,
my father "shouting" at me "Du hast nicht viel Zeit mehr."
and I "shouting" back: "Du hast auch nicht viel Zeit mehr."
The exchange seems real enough, but I can't reconstruct what
the conflict might have been about. My father not infrequently
shouted at my mother, but I can't remember him ever shouting
at me. It wasn't necessary. His meaning could inflict enough
hurt on me; he didn't need to shout. As for myself, I can't
remember ever shouting at either of my parents, and I can't
remember ever leaving early as a result of dissension. Possibly
there's much I have repressed.

The theme "Du hast nicht viel mehr Zeit" is familiar enough.