As predicted, it was not the
same guy from Mister Plumber this morning and he could
not find my condo. He called from somewhere on the other
side of Rt. 125 very confused. By the time he got here,
the Russian Parking Space Blockers had had plenty of time
to shower, especially since the condo maintenance person
didn't give good directions as to where the water shutoff
is, or for that matter where the boiler room is. I called
the management company and put them on the phone with
Mister Plumber who is either allergic to Wilbur or has a
really bad cold. He used up half the toilet paper in the
bathroom blowing his nose.Of course it could have been
the dust from demolishing the wall to get at the pipes.
What a mess! What a big hole in the wall! How will he
avoid setting my house on fire with that torch?
So now I have a new pipe and
distribution valve and the new shower head, which I'd
already bought and was going to put on by myself, but I
have a big hole in the wall -- about 30 inches by 18
inches. At least he swept up all the smashed tile and
wallboard dust. I've got no spigot and the faucet handle
isn't really attached -- just kind of setting there so I
can turn the water on, making darn sure I've turned the
valve to shower because otherwise the water will shoot
straight out the end of the pipe where the spigot should
be with great force and make a big mess like there's not
already a big mess --- and I need to tape a plastic trash
bag or I suppose a blue tarp, which, despite my well
known fascination with blue tarps, I do not have, over
the hole. This is far too complicated.
And have I mentioned how many times
workmen ask me how old this building is? It was built
sometime in the late 1960s or early 1970s. I moved here
in the late 70s. The building is old. I am old. Wilbur is
old.
Speaking of the late 60s, I was in
Starbucks this afternoon and two very young baristas were
talking about the Democratic National Convention and when
the rules changed to make the primaries more important
and the convention less important (1972). Then one of
them asked about 1968 and the other one started telling
him about the competing delegations from the same state
and stuff that necessitated rules changes. Impressed with
how much the young 'un knew, I asked how he could
possibly remember 1968 when clearly he hadn't been born
yet. He read about it. Anyway, the other guy asks "wasn't
there some kind of riot or something?" To which I jumped
in and replied "the Chicago police rioted in the streets
and the whole world was watching." I have vivid memories
of watching this on TV with people chanting "The whole
world in watching!" Friends who were going to school in
Chicago at the time say they remember the smell of tear
gas. Anyway, I guess my point is tonight the whole world
ain't watching. So much for showcasing Boston. It's tough
being the city on a hill... goodnight John Winthrop
wherever you are.
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Today's
Reading
Seabirds: their
biology and ecology by Bryan Nelson, Birds in the
Bush by Bradford Torrey
This
Year's Reading
2004
Booklist
Today's
Starting Pitcher
off day today
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