There’s a guy who lives behind my brownstone that Does Things in the small yard that is attached to his building.
I say “things” because although there is always a flurry of sounds emanating from the yard, I have yet to actually see something different or anything actively being done.
I always know he’s out there when the music begins.
He prefers to keep it mostly oldies – but I have found on days when I assume things are going especially good for him – that he likes to sprinkle in some salsa.
The result of the constant music is that I have found myself, at the most random of times, getting an intense urge to bust out a verse of “Sugar Pie Honey Bunch” without really understanding why.
Immediately after the music begins, the sounds of tools fills the air.
Drills, hammers, saws – you name it and the guy is using it every single Saturday and Sunday afternoon.
Since I can’t see into his yard because of the way our buildings are positioned, I like to imagine that he’s back there doing Something Important.
Like building a spaceship.
You know, something so awesome that he needs to have Smokey Robinson’s smooth voice speaking to him as he uses every single tool known to man to build it.
I bet you’re thinking that building a spaceship doesn’t require those things at all, that spaceships are built by scientists and engineers and other Smart Sounding Things.
Well you’d be wrong.
And your spaceship would suck.
(Now that you’re done reading this genius of a post, go to my “Okay Playa!” page and visit the new links to some great blogs. Now I said!)