25 July—Judging by the Litchfield Zoning Board of Appeals legal notice in the Hearst RepublicanAmerican pictured below, warning of a public hearing on 4 August, a very small family is or will be living in Litchfield. By a very small family, of course, we mean a family of very small people—in fact, of very very very small people, even smaller than Jonathan Swift’s Lilliputians, who were about six inches tall.

To save you the trouble of reading the whole legal ad, this is the relevant text verbatim, with the most relevant part boldly italicized:

Case – 26-08-01 To discuss and possibly act upon – Sink – 47 Byrnes Avenue – from Sec. 1.2. RR Sub. 2. BP FS 50’ for a 31’ front yard variance for construction of a 4” wide covered porch.

While we’re on Litchfield land use, let’s visit the benighted borough of Bantam, which some hoity-toity residents (mostly—but not all—newcomers) prefer to call East Warren, and where the former Bantam School, now the Town Hall Annex, is dying to be demolished. Contrary to earlier wishful life-support estimates that hovered around a piddling $10 million, bringing the 72-year-old Marcel Breuer moribund mutant up to par for any use would cost well over $30 million.

Of course that’s unthinkable and unacceptable to and for Litchfield town taxpayers, who in a November referendum will be asked what they want to do with the decrepit old Bantam Breuer Bauhaus money pit. The close-to-unanimous preferred option is certain to be “Demolish the goddamn thing already!” Even Litchfield taxpayers who live and pay Bantam borough taxes as well as Litchfield town taxes are sure to vote to put the building out of its and the town’s misery.

The problem, however, is a small but stubborn, arrogant, unreasonable cadre of Bantam residents—including the borough’s stubborn, arrogant, unreasonable planning and zoning commission—who will do everything they can and more to keep the embattled building on their terms. Years ago, Bantam P&Z abused its power and put the kibosh on a seven-figure deal, favorable to the town, to repurpose the dilapidated building. And it’s not unlikely the Bantam buggers will do it again.

For any number of reasons, demolition of the former Bantam School at an estimated cost of under a million dollars is the only way to go. And if Bantam P&Z, whose regs don’t specifically address general demolition, doesn’t like it, the town will see the borough in court. But even after the demolition, Bantam P&Z can—and well might—screw the town again . . .