We’re lucky to live on the beach. We even have a water view from our front door and balcony. We would have a full water view if not for the row of six condos that sit directly between our house and the water. If it sounds like I’m resentful of the strip mall McMansion mentality that caused condos to spring up like new relatives after hitting Mega Millions jackpot all over my beautiful beach, it’s because I’m resentful. Now I’m resentful of the condos AND that I’ve yet to hit the MM Jackpot so thanks a lot stupid metaphor.
I woke up Monday morning at exactly 7:00 am to the sound of shotgun shells colliding with fireworks in a valley made out of tin and then shot through an amplifier at 10K watts. My dogs were furious and did what they always do when they’re filled with rage and hate and violence. They hid under the bed and yipped. The dogs then got tired of barking and switched to howling and shaking like alcoholics who came out of a blackout in a dry town in Alaska during January without a coat.
I peeked out the door, getting ready to duck and roll, just like they taught us during the dark days of the Reagan years and although I didn’t see WWIII in the form of a giant blond Russian boxer doing hardcore steroids, I did see a large metal dumpster.
Ivan Drago must be shooting juice with Lance Armstrong in that thing, I thought because my first thoughts are always way off.
I look up to see three roofers on the condos’ roof looking like harbingers of the apocalypse. All sharp angles, wolfish, toothy grins and torn denim. They are ripping the old Spanish tile roof off and throwing the pieces fifty feet below to smash inside the metal dumpster at a success rate of 53% hit. The 47% missed shots result in the tiles smashing against the cement driveway and shooting shrapnel in every direction. These are not odds I like.
This is so much worse than Rocky IV, I thought but this time I was right because Rocky IV was only 91 minutes and this was sure to last at least tens of thousands of minutes.
Then the roofers took a break and one of them brought up one of those indestructible construction radios and turned it to AM talk radio which they left on for the rest of the day.
So I got a horrific explosion with shrapnel ricochets followed by 3.2 seconds of “The schoolteachers in this country are socialists…” followed by another explosion followed by 3.2 seconds of “Satan is the father of lies and the creator of Common Core, folks…” followed by the realization that one of my dogs shit diarrhea all over my kitchen floor because God hates me. The rest of my day went…
Glenn Beck/explosion/Glenn Beck/dog shit/explosion/shrapnel hitting a car/car alarm/Rush Limbaugh/dog shit/explosion/”BUY GOLD NOW!!!!”/explosion/shrapnel/dog puke/Rush Limbaugh…
It’s a goddamned Christmas miracle I haven’t stabbed anyone (yet) this week. Also, does anyone know how to destroy an indestructible radio?
I’m considering whether it would be more satisfying to electronically jam the radio station or take out the contraption with a sniper’s rifle. It’s a choice between shock and awe or aggravation and annoyance.
I love the way you’re thinking here. I’d go with sniper’s rifle. Shock and awe all day! Its what they deserve.
I’ll bet you wish you were in Spain.
The only saving grace is that the condo owners had to listen to the racket too. Assuming they were at home.
It’s funny but almost the same thing happened to me in Spain only the next door roof was closer AND made of asbestos. The owners were home and luckily they’ve made them turn down the radio and “hurry it up.”
This is why I self medicate. I would have stolen their ladders, leaving them stranded on the roof, sniped them with my air soft rifle and blasted death metal in my yard at them.
Bev, great to see you on this side of town! My self medicating days are long over unless you count coffee and banging my head against walls. You’ve give me more ideas…
Loving the photo caption, Scott, and this is really funny. As an occasional talk radio listener, I was totally feelin’ you. Nice job on the simlies, too; as a teacher, I especially appreciate the effort. 🙂
Thanks, I’m starting to get my old blogging mojo back. It’s slower than I would have thought. I used to as well. There’s a chapter in my book where I become addicted to Rush Limbaugh while working for the PA turnpike. Dark days! The only AM I still love is NPR.
Thanks Mrs Fours!
I am crying with laughter! But honestly, nothing is louder than a damn roof being put on. And it takes FOREVER.-Ashley
They originally said one week. We’re not coming to the end of week two and I think… if they work Saturday… they have a shot to finish. Thank heaven and pass the Valium.
I am so sorry for that hellish nightmare, yet so grateful for how it inspired you to write some hysterical stuff. Richard Pryor was a comedic genius at turning bad experiences into funny material, and you are right in the zone, Scott. I’m sending some street workers with a jackhammer to work outside your bedroom window next week . . . I see another book by the time they’re done! No need to thank me yet . . . I have to flee the country first to get clear of your more immediate reaction . . . 😉 Hope they are finished!
Nah man, no worries. Send all the trouble you can dig up, we can handle it. A few days ago now a shark swam right by me. I can work with anything at this point, jut digging the vibe. I actually am at work on another group of essays as well as the novel at the mo.
Nice, man. I read about the black fins and it sounded like a tense moment, yet cool. Keep it coming Scott!
He’s my friends now, it’s all good.
I would have loved to listen to that radio station. Oh wait, I do almost everyday. When the dems are out and the republicans are in you can hear the same thing from the dems. That’s why I hate both parties. They are doing almost exactly the same thing, but most people can’t see that.
I hear you about the noise though. They work their hours and they don’t care about anything else.
Have a fabulous day. 🙂
Both sides of the isle suck, that’s true. I hate the blatant lies and fear mongering though, no matter who it’s coming from.