He's a lumberjack? Is he OK?

The neighborhood is all a twitter. Word on the street is that Fuddsy plans to cut down the pine trees that tower over his house. And he intends to do it himself.

It's probably true. He's spray painted yellow Xs on the trees he wants to remove, just like a real lumberjack.

The pines are about 90 feet high and might fall on neighboring houses, including mine, if they are dropped incorrectly.

There's no doubt that something has to be done. The trees have been falling branch by branch particularly during winter nor'easters when the limbs are caked with a cement-like layer of wet snow. We sleep on the couch in the living room during partcularly windy storms to avoid the The Big Bang.

A 90-footer with a trunk as wide as a coffee table fell in the front yard a few years ago. It fell away from the house and knocked down four telephone poles that went down like dominos when the trunk hit the wires. The electricity was out for hours. Luckily, it blocked the street so the town removed it. The load filled a flatbed truck.

After the excitement,Insurance Man, a couple of doors down, had his pines removed a at a cost of $3,000. The Southern Immigrants on the other side of Fuddsy had theirs removed at a cost of $10,000. Both jobs were done by professional lumberjacks assisted by a gigantic crane that towered over the trees and held them as they were removed piece by piece.
Fuddsy is said to have rented a bucket truck for the project. The smart money says its way to small for the project. We'll see. It ought to be entertaining.

pre-high school musical

The pit band struck up the familiar chords of "The Candyman" and the curtain jerked open to reveal a cardboard cutout of the front gate of Willy Wonka's chocolate factory.

As the music reached a crescendo, Willie stepped out onto the stage in a silver glitter top hat and Jiminy cricket coat. The hall shook with applause.

The gym/auditorium was packed with 300 hundred hooting and hollering theatergoers in folding metal chairs who cheered on their siblings and friends as they flexed their fledgling acting muscles in the middle school production of Willy Wonka.

The Candyman came. The Oompa Loompas' oompaed. Willie Wonka winked. Nary a line was dropped, and nobody was embarassed.

Everybody agreed the show was awesome.

Did I tell you Number One Son had a featured role? He played the video game fanatic Mike TV. He stole the show.

At least in this critic's eyes.

Who says Our Town has no clutcha.

I confess

I steal pens. I just returned from a walk to the bank, where the haul was two TD Bank pens with retractable points. I got a thick stemmed beauty at the hair dresser's this morning. I've lifted ballpoints from auto dealerships, museums, restaurants and schools. A box on the coffee table in front of me holds writing instruments from a veterinarian, the town recreation department and the MSMA Alumni Association, whatever that is. I lifted them all. And I did it when nobody was looking. My wife and son think I'm crazy.

Dawn Patrol

At dawn on an unseasonably warm April morning fog hugged the river like a down conforter. I heard the distant honking of Canada goose before the motors of the commuters began to growl. As the calls grew louder and louder, it became obvious that a solitary goose had become separated from its flock while migrating north by starlight from Chesapeake Bay. As its voice grew fainter I snuggled under the covers. I still wonder if he found the flock.