The Phoenix had remained inside the garage.
It wasn't blocking the driveway.
It wasn't visible from the street unless the garage door happened to be open.
And the notice didn't identify any specific incident demonstrating a violation.
I contacted the management company.
The receptionist explained that the report came directly from the HOA president.
I requested the relevant rule and asked whether an indoor collector vehicle was prohibited.
The receptionist hesitated.
Then said she'd need to consult the board.
Two days later, I received a copy of the association's parking and vehicle-storage guidelines.
The relevant provision concerned abandoned or visibly deteriorating vehicles kept outdoors for extended periods.
It didn't prohibit a properly stored collector car inside a private garage.
I responded in writing.
I explained that the Phoenix was legally owned, carefully maintained, and stored indoors.
I also requested that the violation be withdrawn.
The president replied personally.
Her message said the board could consider a vehicle's condition and effect on community appearance even if the owner claimed it was collectible.
I stared at the email.
Then read it again.
She wasn't addressing the facts.
She was defending her right to decide what my car was worth.
I wrote a short response requesting a formal hearing if the charge wasn't withdrawn.
For several days, I heard nothing.
Then a second notice arrived.
This one included a one-hundred-dollar fine.
I attended the next HOA board meeting.
There were seven directors, though only five were present that evening.
The president sat at the center of a long conference table beneath a framed photograph of the neighborhood entrance.
She wore a bright-pink blazer.
Her black leather folder rested beside a polished nameplate.
The meeting began with ordinary business.
Landscaping invoices.
A discussion about pool maintenance.
And a complaint involving construction noise on another street.
When the president finally recognized me, she looked almost pleased.
"You're here about the antique car?"
I stood.
"Yes."
She smiled toward the other directors.
"Our new resident is quite attached to an old automobile."
I ignored the remark.
Then placed copies of the relevant rules on the table.
I explained that the car was stored indoors, that the cited provision applied to outdoor abandoned vehicles, and that I couldn't identify any factual basis for the fine.
A younger board member examined the rule.
He was an accountant who had moved into the neighborhood recently.
He looked toward the president.
"I think he's right about the wording."
Her smile tightened.
"The board has discretion."
He nodded.