At the conclusion of Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, Dr. McCoy remarks that the bureaucratic mentality is the only constant in the universe. It’s taken me years to completely figure out what he meant, but I think I finally get it. What old Bones is saying is that the world is filled with small-minded, mid-level-management types whose only purpose in life is to squash the unorthodox and ensure that everyone does everything “by the book.” These gray-skinned, unimaginative little beings live and die by their rules, their time clocks, and their almighty god, Procedure. Their thought processes are inflexible and binary in nature; they think in terms of black and white, on or off, one way or the other. They abhor the idea of a third possibility or an exception to the rules because it overloads their limited minds and interferes with their hardwired purpose, which is to use what little power they’ve been granted by the greater beings above them to enforce their mindless and impersonal regulations.
So, you’re wondering, what’s got ol’ Bennion riled up today? Nothing, except being awakened by the raspy buzz of a chainsaw, which was busily mutilating this wonder of nature:
That’s my mother’s trumpet vine, which she took as a start from my late grandmother’s yard and planted alongside the utility pole in front of my house when I was a little boy. It has lived and thrived on that pole for over thirty years. It’s been something of a local landmark, a unique object that out-of-towners could easily spot and which could be easily described when giving directions. Total strangers used to stop when my mother was doing yard work in the front, compliment her on the vine, and ask for their own starts. That vine has been as familiar and comforting a part of my personal landscape as the house itself, and my old school, and the tree where my dad once built me a treehouse.
This morning, in the space of about two hours, it was ripped down and fed into the heartless jaws of a mulching machine, and then its roots were poisoned, just to be sure.
My parents — who are my landlords these days — have been fighting the destruction of the vine for several years now, ever since Utah Power and Light was acquired by a Scottish multinational. You see, kids, there was a time when things like public utitities were locally owned. Back then, when hobbits still made their homes in holes in the ground and elves abided in groves of Russian-olive trees alongside the Jordan River, the power company was staffed by local people who gave a damn about the concerns of other local people. When something like this vine issue came up, you could call someone and discuss it with some confidence that they’d actually listen to you and that you might even win the battle. The service was at least somewhat personalized, and it was possible to reason with the power company.
But no more. Now some golf-shirt-wearing office-monkey sitting in a cubicle somewhere, most likely not in this state and possibly not even in this country, issues a fatwah that proclaims, “There shalt not be any vine-like vegetation on the utility poles because the vine will grow into the pole and damage it” (actual reason given for the vine’s death sentence), and the tree-trimming guys show up unannounced on your doorstep, saying, “So it was written, so shall it be done.”
I suspect the desk-drone’s memo was most likely composed with ivy or kudzu in mind; those vines are destructive monsters that infiltrate whatever object they grow on and weaken it by forcing their way into — and widening — small crevices. But trumpet vines don’t work that way. They grow on the outside of whatever supports them. If anything, my trumpet vine has probably reinforced that damn pole and kept it from coming down during the summer windstorms we sometimes get around here. (To be fair, the vine has needed to be trimmed periodically to keep it from tangling into the power lines, but UP&L was historically willing to work with us on that, and, in some three decades, there has never been any interruption in service because of the vine.)
Beginning three or four years ago, the treetrimmers have come around to take down the vine about every six months, and each time my dad has managed to convince them that the vine has not, in fact, damaged the pole in any way and that an exception should be made for it. But, like comic-book villains who refuse to stay dead, they’ve just kept coming back, and this time there was no arguing with them. They had their orders. And now the vine is dead and gone.
I know everything in this world is impermanent, but it never fails to amaze me how quickly something that has witnessed the rise and fall of generations can be utterly swept away. It makes me sick to think that the objects we use to define our personal spaces are ultimately nothing more than fodder for the landfill. And it absolutely infuriates me that there’s not a damn thing you can do to fight the faceless, anonymous powers that control our lives. That vine wasn’t hurting a bloody thing, but it didn’t matter to the paper-pushers who’d never even seen it.
Resistance is futile in these matters. And I hate that.
I’m sorry, baby. Was your mom able to get a start from it before it came down?
No, I’m afraid not. I’m not even sure if you can take starts off one of these in the winter time, when the vine is dormant.
We may get lucky, though – the vine has traveled under the lawn and popped up in a couple of places nearer to the house. It’s possible the poison won’t reach that part of it, and we’ll be able to get a start there.
Well generally, anything streetside of the sidewalk is city property so I can see the dilemma, however it sucks because rather than the city keep it up, they fine you if you don’t. Go figure. I’m surprised that UP&L was even working today. 🙂
May your New Year be filled with less white-shirt bureaucracy!
The utility pole is technically owned by the power company, not the city, at least as I understand it. Either way, I freely acknowledge that my parents and I have no legal control over that pole. UP&L is, unfortunately, entitled to say what does or does not grow on it.
The thing that’s really got us so damn frustrated, however, is that something that hasn’t been a problem for thirty years was suddenly declared a problem by someone who never even saw the situation with his own eyes. It was all completely impersonal, done by some distant corporate overlord. And there was no way for us to fight back. We were told, essentially, that we could sue if we wanted to, but in the end, they’d still take the vine, no matter what we said or did, so we may as well just shut up and adapt. I’ve always resented heavy-handed authoritarianism, and I definitely resent being made to feel powerless in this situation.
And besides, the pole just looks so bloody desolate without the vine. It’s one more victory for the creeping blight that’s sucking the heart out of my neighborhood. But that’s probably another rant…
I am currently proud of a trumpet vine growing on my utility pole in which I transplanted from my aunts house and I know the beauty it adds what steps should I take that they dont cut mine down?
Hey, Scott, welcome to Simple Tricks. I was surprised to see someone comment on such an old post.
I’m afraid I don’t have any really good advice for you, since my parents and I failed in our battle against the power company. I guess I’d start by finding out what your local power company thinks about vines, and check and see if there’s any local ordnance forbidding them. I’d also take a start and get the vine growing somewhere else that’s unquestionably your property, on a trellis or something, just in case the one on the pole ends up facing the chainsaws.
Sorry that’s probably not very helpful, and good luck in your quest. I sure do miss my vine…
Sorry to hear about your trump vine. They poisoned my trump vine summer of 2005, then when I nursed it back to health, they cut it down and pulled it out by the roots in 2006. My trump vine also looked like your image and made their ugly pole more appealing. They left all my neighbors trump vines in place, however. Some of them have been there for thirty years, and of course have never caused any harm. Who ever took over Utah Power and Light won’t mess with anything touching thier poles because they have butchered many trees that grow near it down our street.
You wouldn’t think losing a trump vine would make you feel so sad.
Mark
Hey Mark, welcome – sorry to hear the mindless vine-hating bureaucrats got your vine, too. They really are beautiful things. You have my sympathies…
I came across your post as I was looking for images of trumpet vine. I am considering planting it as added privacy between the neighbors.
After reading your post, I have to ask, did the vine withstand the poison and grow back elsewhere?
Hi Leo, welcome. I’m surprised this old post is still attracting attention!
To answer your question, yes, the vine popped up alongside my house and seems to be doing quite fine there. The section out by the power pole is very dead, though.
If you’re thinking of putting the vine on a fence or trellis, I think you’ll probably be happy with the results. The only thing is, if you’re primarily interested in privacy, all the leaves fall off the trumpet vine in winter, so you’re left with a bunch of sticks wound around whatever the vine is growing on – not much privacy there… 🙂
Hi – I’m so sorry to hear about your Trumpet vine on the pole…even almost 3 years later! They are a beautiful vine, I agree. I’ve heard nothing can kill them so maybe you’ll see it come back in that same spot 🙂 esp. if the utility pole is still there.
Silly backstory…or it may not be in a few years, lol. For 10+ years, our neighbors wouldn’t – and still won’t – have anything to do with repairing/replacing our shared wooden fence. My husband & I repaired it several times. Over the years, it looked like it would blow down even in the slightest south Texas wind.
I bought 4 of these vines & 2 of them are holding the fence up just fine (for now!) I have the other 2 on the backyard chainlink fence
How do you get starts from them? haha, tune in – this is going to turn into the ‘trumpet vine’ info blog. That great photo drew me in. Have a great day & get a good ‘start’ 😉
Well, hey, Nancy – I am amazed that this old post keeps pulling in comments! I’ll bet your fences are quite a sight when that vine is all in bloom.
I’ll be honest with you, I don’t really know how to take starts… my mom is the green thumb of the family, and all I do is maintain what she planted years ago.
She’s currently out of town for the Fourth of July weekend, but given the ongoing interest in this entry, when she gets back maybe I’ll talk to her and post a follow-up. Stay tuned!
Hello!
Just saw your blog now and loved what you wrote. I’m starting a trumpet vine now and have even built a stone courtyard of sorts of which it will be the feature. I hope to get an almost bonsai (sp?) tree look from it, as I’ve seen that done. I’m building the framework for it now. Best of luck to you and great comments.
Planted a trumpet vine last year and am waiting for it to begin twining around my street side arbor to see if the honey suckle going up the other side will win the battle for sunlight. The vines are three feet long but have not started to wind yet. Was looking for comparison of twining prowess between the two. My arbor is zip tied and I am depending on the vines to hold the rebar together securely as the zip ties are not weld strong. Nice picture and one more story of mindless bureaucrats controlling our lives. Hitler must be proud. And we’ll soon see if Obama measures up to the terror of Adolf.
Yes, because universal healthcare is so obviously equivalent to the Final Solution.
Good luck with your trumpet vine.
The image of your trumpet vine pops up on the first page of a Google search.. and that’s what brings me here with a question.
Did the vine ever grow along the utility lines at all? I would think it would have followed the lines like green beans in a garden…
Hi, Jeremy… yes, the trumpet vine would have followed the power lines if it hadn’t been cut back from time to time.
When Utah Power and Light was still locally owned, they were good to work with my parents on that. They’d send out a crew to trim the vine back every couple of years, but otherwise leave it alone. The new UP&L owners, however, refused to do that and insisted on destroying the vine altogether.
It has since popped up again alongside my front porch, and down the fence on the north side of the house.
I was looking on how to get rid of Poison Ivy and saw your Vine. OMG i must say it was a beauty. But Yes the city frown on any vine on there pols. they will have there little fits till its gone. But just let it be poison Ivy and God forbid, they wouldnt touch it ( EVER )I have seen trumpet vine in 50 foot trees, all those little flowers peeking through the leaves were a sight to see, but alas i do think it was chokeing the poor tree to death. Im thinking of puttiing a vine in one of my elm trees, as i HATE THAT TREE! I have tried to start several peices ive snaged off the road side but havenet had any luck YET. Well just wanted you to know i loves your artical 🙂
Thanks, Giny!
Stupid, stupid Homo sapiens sapiens…. duty to whom? The bureaucratic robots are taking over, let’s unplug them all…….
I was searching for info on the trumpet vine as I am looking to introduce one into my garden. Google threw up this link and I really appreciated the sentiment behind your gem of an essay. I’ve emailed the link to a few like-minded friends, too. Thanks for a moving piece of writing.
Thank you, Dan — it surprises me that people are still finding this post after so long. Good luck with your own trumpet vine; just keep it away from power poles!