It’s never a good sign when there’s a steam shovel on your
street.
It never leads to any good.
It’s not like they’re gonna dig a big hole in front of your
house and pull out a chest full of gold.
It’s more likely they’re gonna dig a big hole in front of
your house and find another big hole in your sewer pipe.
Or worse, that noisy neighbor who mysteriously disappeared
back in the 70’s. along with his 8 track tapes.
Actually, I’m not even sure it’s even called a steam shovel
any more.
But you know what I mean.
That big thing that looks like some sort of prehistoric
monster, with the guy sitting inside working the controls, unless he’s in
between holes, in which case the guy just sits there and reads the newspaper.
And I was right…it wasn’t a good sign, at all.
Before I knew it they were blocking off my street and digging
up the pavement.
I mean, do you know how long it took me to draw that hop
scotch board?
But I suppose it was overdue.
The chalk was starting to fade and the pot holes even had
pot holes, now.
In fact they had already repaved the first half of the
street about 2 years ago, but stopped just as they got to my house.
Never knew why and couldn’t get an answer, even when I
interrupted the guy sitting in the steam shovel.
“Beats me,” he said. “I just does what I’m told.”
And it’s not like it’s a big street…in fact it’s not even a
street at all…it’s only a “Place”…about 200 yards or so long.
That’s what it’s called…Place. Not Street, Avenue, Lane,
Drive or my personal favorite Boulevard…just Place.
I live on a Place. I guess it doesn’t get any simpler than
that.
Everyone has to be some place.
I guess it could be worse.
I guess they could call it “Thing”.
Or maybe just “There”.
“Where do you live?
“I live There….”
“Oh, I hear There is
nice”.
“It is…it’s close to
Thing”.
“Thing can get noisy,
especially in the summer”.
“I used to live on It,
but I couldn’t take the traffic”.
“Yeah, It is busy”.
“It is….”
So they’re finally repaving the rest of this Place…where I
live.
No more feeble attempts at filling pot holes with some sort
of gooey gravel, that pretty much just ends up on my sidewalk and lawn after 2
or 3 cars drive over it.
No more mystery thumps or screeching tires and breaks in the
middle of the night, as cars drive across the irregular and hazardous surface, sometimes
disappearing into a crevice until light.
So maybe it’s not so bad when a steam shovel shows up on
your street, after all.
Once you get by all the heavy machinery noise, dust and boisterous
hole digging songs; when you’re finally able to move your car out of your
driveway, without scraping the muffler off the bottom of your car …you now have
a road that drives as smooth as a silk scarf…or a sow’s purse…one or the other,
not sure.
And
if you're able to avoid a run in with the Steam Roller—a particular family tradition of
ours…don't ask—then you're good to go..
And
if you're able to avoid a run in with the Steam Roller—a particular family tradition of
ours…don't ask—then you're good to go..
Of course, now the other half of the road is all torn up
again…but baby steps…baby steps.
Rome wasn’t built in a day.
Only their roads…..
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Lots of 'Things' over here mate, in fact, you wouldn't want for a thing with your kind of spare cash.
ReplyDeleteSo cool to be called "Mate". Makes me feel like Popeye!
DeleteI just read We Wuz Robbed. Loved it. You are too good for Read Wave.
ReplyDeleteJoan, I need you to be my agent! Please!!!
DeleteStart making some calls.