There was a time when I didn't care about dandelions. I didn't even have an opinion regarding the species. In fact part of my ancestral DNA told me I was supposed to make salad with them. When we lived in Chicago, we would see people picking dandelions in the forest preserves. I would wonder what part of my ancestral heritage was I was missing out on by not picking these weeds. But then again, if rabbits eat them, are they really people food. I'd rather eat the rabbit. That part of my cultural heritage Uncle Harold made sure I was acquainted with, that and pickled herring.
Enough with the history lesson, I now view dandelions with a clear eye. They are the scourge of yard. The mantra of the darliks from Dr. Who rings in my ears: exterminate, exterminate. The only good dandelion is a dead dandelion. But alas, unless I want to spray the yard and garden with toxic liquids and endanger all our plants, I am at the mercy of my neighbors. Some guy three blocks away can have dandelions and eventually I will too. All I can do is be ever vigilant and pull them out when I see them.
Now, I'm not a big fan of turf grass either. Eventually I would like to rid the back yard of turf grass entirely and limit it to a pathway in the front yard. But as along as we have grass in the yard, it needs to be dandelion free.