Weird things happen in life. When events line up unexpectedly, you sometimes just shake your head and go, “How the heck did that happen?”
We all experience these moments. They are the times, for example, where you show up at Chicago Midway airport and walk from your gate to find your mom heading towards you (not knowing she is flying, nor she knowing you are passing through) and you stop in front of her, “Mom, is that you?”
And she responds, “David? David Simon? What are you doing here?” That happened to me.
The following incident is not quite at that level. Still. There was a strange alignment recently in my life that actually got me to text my wife while she was traveling so we could share a laugh.
It went like this: we walk our dog Pepper consistently at a local forested area. Parking at that spot has become rutted due to rain/snow and the turf. It is mostly dirt, so it becomes deeper as precipitation sits in puddles and cars gouge out mud.
This is a bit inconvenient and tends towards the 4-5 holes getting steep enough over time that the bottom carriage of your vehicle scrapes as your tires move through the ruts. To solve the problem (or, more accurately, to briefly alleviate it since time and weather recreate the holes), I have taken to buying bags of pond pebbles (decent-sized rocks) and dumping them to fill the water-filled chasms.
I feel righteous. Solving a problem. It never holds though.
As the holes have re-expanded recently and I’d begun musing yet again about purchasing the bags of rocks, we encountered another guy walking his dog. We chatted about the issue and he said he’d just called the local park district to get the problem fixed, but no one had showed up to do the job. He joined our frustration.
No help came. I made the decision to buy six more bags of pond pebbles one morning at our local hardware store, and headed off to the park.
As I closed in on the area, I saw orange construction cones popping out to the main road, and thought, “Huh, what the heck? Is the park closed?”
Getting nearer, I’ll be damned if the local maintenance guys aren’t in the middle of filling in the holes, packing it down, grading it. It’s all nicely fixed as I pull up, and the two guys wave me away so they can finish job.
Here I am, with six bags of pond pebbles ready to do my thing. What now?
I drove past, turned around, and thought, “What the heck were the odds on this? Me buying the rocks, driving there and finding these two guys doing the job at the EXACT MOMENT when I show up?” Weird, strange, synchronicity when stuff like this happens to you.
I’m sure you’ve had similar moments in life. We all have them.
The big remaining question is what to do with the rocks sitting in the back of my car. My wife figures we can do some erosion control behind our house. I hope the village maintenance crew doesn’t show up right as we start to dump the rocks. Imagine that.
We all experience these moments. They are the times, for example, where you show up at Chicago Midway airport and walk from your gate to find your mom heading towards you (not knowing she is flying, nor she knowing you are passing through) and you stop in front of her, “Mom, is that you?”
And she responds, “David? David Simon? What are you doing here?” That happened to me.
The following incident is not quite at that level. Still. There was a strange alignment recently in my life that actually got me to text my wife while she was traveling so we could share a laugh.
It went like this: we walk our dog Pepper consistently at a local forested area. Parking at that spot has become rutted due to rain/snow and the turf. It is mostly dirt, so it becomes deeper as precipitation sits in puddles and cars gouge out mud.
This is a bit inconvenient and tends towards the 4-5 holes getting steep enough over time that the bottom carriage of your vehicle scrapes as your tires move through the ruts. To solve the problem (or, more accurately, to briefly alleviate it since time and weather recreate the holes), I have taken to buying bags of pond pebbles (decent-sized rocks) and dumping them to fill the water-filled chasms.
I feel righteous. Solving a problem. It never holds though.
As the holes have re-expanded recently and I’d begun musing yet again about purchasing the bags of rocks, we encountered another guy walking his dog. We chatted about the issue and he said he’d just called the local park district to get the problem fixed, but no one had showed up to do the job. He joined our frustration.
No help came. I made the decision to buy six more bags of pond pebbles one morning at our local hardware store, and headed off to the park.
As I closed in on the area, I saw orange construction cones popping out to the main road, and thought, “Huh, what the heck? Is the park closed?”
Getting nearer, I’ll be damned if the local maintenance guys aren’t in the middle of filling in the holes, packing it down, grading it. It’s all nicely fixed as I pull up, and the two guys wave me away so they can finish job.
Here I am, with six bags of pond pebbles ready to do my thing. What now?
I drove past, turned around, and thought, “What the heck were the odds on this? Me buying the rocks, driving there and finding these two guys doing the job at the EXACT MOMENT when I show up?” Weird, strange, synchronicity when stuff like this happens to you.
I’m sure you’ve had similar moments in life. We all have them.
The big remaining question is what to do with the rocks sitting in the back of my car. My wife figures we can do some erosion control behind our house. I hope the village maintenance crew doesn’t show up right as we start to dump the rocks. Imagine that.
