Chaos is a friend of mine.” - Bob Dylan
Saturday broke warmer, but I still put on the red sweatshirt and headed out to blow some of the leaves from my front yard to the back.
Only five minutes into it, I looked up to see the white truck and its trailer slow to a stop. When I realized ignoring them was fruitless, I shut off the blower and turned, knowing what they wanted. I had another dead pine tree in my back yard, the fifth or sixth since we’d moved there. You could see the top of it from the street and that it was void of needles – and life.
“You need to let me cut that dead tree down for you,” came the pitch. I was inclined to say no, but after thinking about it for a few seconds, I knew it needed to be removed before it fell on its own, causing who knows what kind of destruction and chaos.
It had happened before, and not just once. The first one fell through the fence of my neighbor to the south. I was more energetic in those days, though, and after renting a chain saw and buying some new fence posts, everything was back to normal. The only glitch was when I cut too far on one of the branches and the saw dug into the dirt and Comcast’s cable, just below the service. So my neighbor not only had a big hole in his fence but also had lost his Internet, keeping him from emailing friends about his idiot next-door neighbor.
Actually, the neighbor, Raul, couldn’t have been nicer about everything, and I was sorry to see him move not long after the tree incident. It seems strange that he never said goodbye, though.
The next falling pine was on the North side of my yard. That came on a cold December night while I was watching the Hogs struggle on the court. It had started sleeting just after the game came on, and during halftime, I heard the loud crash from behind my house. I knew what it was but looked out my window anyway to see if I was right. I was.
The tree had fallen through the fence and had reached the wooden deck of my neighbor’s house. There were lights on, so they were home, and I saw a lady come out. I went out, too, and after she told me no windows were broken and that they were all right, I said I’d call her the next day.
I was back on my couch watching the Hogs when someone knocked on the door. It was Hugh, an old fraternity brother. “Hey man, this is a surprise,” I said while letting him in.
“Sorry to bother you,” he began, but your tree just crashed into my ex-wife’s house.”
“She’s your ex?”
“”Yeah.”
“Wow, small world,” I said.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Hey how are the Hogs doing?” he asked while looking at the TV.
“They actually have a chance I think. Want a beer? Don’t cost nuthin,” I said, trying unsuccessfully to do Belushi.
“Well, maybe one,” he said. “After all, she is my ex.”
Fifteen minutes later, his cell was ringing, and we both knew who it was. Two minutes later, he was out the door with me thinking maybe divorce wasn’t all it was cut out to be.
“See ya,” I told him as he headed out into the sleet. “And don’t worry about the tree; I’m insured.”
“Thanks,” he yelled back, crunching away through the frozen grass.
To be continued…