I always imagined that Easy Street was this place… where faucets never dripped, lawns never got weeds, the houses never required painting, all the neighbors got along and frequently had BBQ’s, and pets never defecated. Well, it just so happens that one time I did actually find myself on Easy Street. It was a hot and steamy July day in a small town in South Carolina. This was many, many years ago (15?20?) and I was inventorying trees* on the city’s rights of way. As a consulting Arborist/Forester,...