As Heaven is Wide
We got an angry letter from our homeowner’s association this morning because we violated a rule. A rule! A very important RULE!
Apparently we left our garbage cans out until 7 a.m. the day after garbage day and the deadline is 6 p.m. on garbage day, you see. And that Waste Management bin is an eyesore! A BLOODY EYESORE! And if we do it again we’ll be fined. FINED! Angrily fined!
Seriously, who the hell turned us in for that, is what I want to know. What complete lunatic with way too much time on his hands — time that could be spent eating pudding or making pickled carrots or something — actually watched with his little mouthbreathing knuckle head out his window and REPORTED that our garbage bin — our single, green, totally benign garbage bin — was out 13 hours past deadline.
Incidentally, out of nowhere, Adam just screamed “POOOOOOOOO!” in the loudest, highest voice he could muster. I was understandably piqued, as it scared the crap out of me, and he simply replied with:
“That’s what it’s like when you sneeze. Knock it off.”
I am, it seems, instructed to “learn a new sneeze,” as mine is too jarring.
Not that I want to assume that everyone is as dorky as I am, but I have to admit, whatever your politics, it’s a rather bright day — one that honestly gives me the chills every time I think about it — when a black man and a woman are vying for a major party nomination in the presidential race. Forget the individuals and politics themselves — everyone has strong feelings about that one way or the other, surely — but their demographics alone make me very … well, proud is kind of the wrong word, because REALLY, it’s about damn time, but gets me all verklempt, really it does.
(Also, shame on Bill Clinton for making it all about race. I hope Teddy Kennedy eats you for breakfast. And I used to LIKE you.)
Also, random, equally dorky aside: Am I the only one who noticed that during the State of Union, Nancy Pelosi seemed to be reading … well, it looked like a copy of “Tuesdays with Morrie,” to be honest with you. And as of right this second, she’s totally still reading it. Hey Nancy! It was cheesy and a little contrived! Don’t waste your time!
Maybe she can help me get out of the garbage can conundrum I seem to have found myself in. I should have told her about it before she went into the event. I could have given her something to think about. (A GARBAGE CAN. I’m still seething. I’ve been cited for a GARBAGE CAN, when people’s dogs are leaving GIANT, MEATLOAF-SIZED POOPS all OVER THE PLACE. And also, my other neighbor bought her second — no no, THIRD — ATV and proceeds to ride it around in her UNDERPANTS on Saturday mornings. But no. My garbage can is totally more offensive than a giant mucusy DOG STEAMER AND A FLABBY PANTLESS NEIGHBOR ON AN ATV. I totally get it. Totally.)
(Also, Bob Dole? Looks peaked. Jesus, I honestly didn’t know he was still alive.)
And on a final note, my heart goes out to the Ryan family. I’ve read and watched Bob Ryan for years, ever since I got my first Boston Globe subscription many moons ago. As with all good columnists, I’ve always felt like we’re intimate, old friends, and my heart breaks for him, and for his son’s wife and children.
And with that, I hope you have an outstanding Tuesday. Life is too short!
*Garbage. Oh ho ho HO! THE EFFING GARBAGE.
22 comments January 28th, 2008