Since my previous post, Pops has not been in the neighborhood for one single performance. Maybe he's just letting things cool down a bit. Maybe his feelings were truly hurt. Maybe I need to pop the champagne cork.
I would do just that, except that Pops was just 1 piece of a large puzzle. At 2am on a freezing Monday morning in January, I had to contend with some of the loudest conversations known to man outside of the Cyclops last night. Where does it stop? Do I schedule an appointment each night to speak with the night owls about how they should shut up?
Though I consider the results of my battle with Pops to be a small (probably temporary) victory, I'm going to have to concede defeat on this one. I figure a box of earplugs will carry me through until the condo sells this spring, especially since a high-powered rifle is not really an option.
4 comments:
I found a letter recently from an old friend and the writing on this blog seems similar to that old letter. Were you through Ft. Collins for a bit back in the late 80's early 90's? I've been wondering what ever happened to him since the days in that hippie household...
Robin,
I wish there was some way I could reply directly to you. The person in question would be my brother Steve. I rarely check this blog anymore, so sorry I didn't respond sooner.
I hope this note somehow finds you ok.
In the meantime, I'll check in on Steve to see if he remembers a Robin from that era.
cheers!
I guess he didn't remember, but if it's not to late, it's robin from Marcia's house where don had his bus in back...with the white subaru that smelled like patchouli!
Well, I guess I did tell you that I never look at this blog, so again, I apologize that it's been over a year since your last comment.
Steve remembered you. Send me a note at david.berlinguette@gmail.com, and I'll provide you with his contact info if you're interested.
Post a Comment