This week a guy, maybe a high school kid, drags a chair into the empty lot across the street from me and sits down. This in and of itself is odd but hey, maybe he's the commune with nature type. If nature consists of some dirt and gravel.
I lose interest and go back to what I was doing when I hear the faint exceedingly loud notes of The Star Spangled Banner being played. On a saxaphone.
I look out the window and he's sitting in an empty lot playing the national anthem on a saxaphone.
Are you supposed to stand with your hand over your heart for that? I did just in case. I mean, it's almost an involuntary reaction when you hear the national anthem, right? Somewhere around his thirteenth rendition though, I decided I'd fulfilled my patriotic duty.
This is a good enough story as is, but the next day I happened to be outside when the guy's mother approached me.
She might have been scolding me about something when she uttered the following sentence "You know, what I am trying to say is that I really value having things quiet."
I was pointing out the irony in this to Jeff when he said "Of course she values having things quiet. That's why she sends her kid to the middle of the neighborhood to play the saxaphone."
