Choreography

The delivery truck was there too long, its deep thrum filling the house.  I went to a front window to look down at the court and see what the holdup was.  The truck started to back up, which added the back-up beeper to the soundscape.  The problem became clear.

     Street parking is always at a premium here.  There’s an island in the middle of the court, which greatly reduces the places visitors can leave vehicles.  Furthermore, the court curves tightly enough that act of parking can present a challenge.  People tend to park farther from the curb than is strictly legal.  None of this is a problem.  This is a residential area, we all get along, and children play on the island.

     Parking’s been extra tight recently, as one family is in the throes of major remodeling.  A giant storage container has come to stay in their driveway for the duration.  It blocks vehicle access to their garage.  The family’s cars have to park in the court, all three of them.  Also, the men doing the construction drive individually to the site.  One leaves his pickup in the driveway, next to the pod.  The others cluster their pickups on the street, as close to the site as they can get.

     On Delivery Truck Day, neighbors on our side of the court were having work done on their house, so there was a service truck added to the parking mix, to accommodate which, at least one of those neighbors’ cars was parked on the street.  The delivery truck had made it through the chicane by the remodeler’s house, but could not fit through the assemblage of vehicles near us.

     The driver of the delivery truck instigated a three-point turn, which rapidly became a multiple-of-three-point turn because the driver had almost no room to work with.  By now, everyone was aware that something was happening on the court.  Remodelers were hustling to their pickups and backing them up around the curves of the court, the delivery truck following them like an ocean liner with tugs.  Then, of course, the pickups all shifted to drive and processed back around the court to where they’d started.

     It was glorious to behold.  Busby Berkeley could scarcely have improved on the choreography and, of course, our second-floor window gave me an aerial view.  That day must have set a record for most trucks in motion on the court at one time.  

     My sweetheart and I saw some fine truck-backing-up the fire-station construction site along Platt Road.  The driver of a pickup had all traffic stopped in both directions on Platt while he backed his truck and a tall, opaque trailer onto the site.  He had to get through two gates.  Once he’d lined up the maneuver, he sailed through both of them.  It was a treat to witness the driver’s skill.

     We also saw some excellent action in our living room.  Daughter Number Two was trying her hand at opening a recalcitrant tin of nuts.  Sitting on the couch, she was giving the effort everything she had when suddenly the top came off.  Such were the forces in play that not only did a couple of nuts go flying across the room but DN2’s sock came off.  We’d thought that was just a figure of speech.

     Daughter Number Four, who was present for the opening of the tin, had a similar experience when she was small.  Grownups were moving mulch around the yard, and DN4 wanted a turn at the wheelbarrow.  She managed to get it underway, but couldn’t keep it going.  She kept hanging on when it stopped, her feet flew into the air, and one of her shoes sailed off without her.

     A lady at the Thrift Shop yesterday wanted to buy a lamp–the good-sized table lamp with a good-sized shade on the top shelf of the display.  I don’t know how the merchandisers got it up there, but no one then working at the shop could have gotten it down without equipment.  Enter the unsuspecting customer, well over six feet tall and strong-looking.  

     “Mr. Tall Person?” I inquired.

     “What do you need?” he answered calmly.

     “That lamp.” I pointed. 

     He sized up the situation, which included that the lamp would have to be angled from its place to clear a safety rail about eighteen inches above the shelf.  Then he reached up one of his long arms and unscrewed the finial.  He removed the shade, handed it to me, and screwed the finial back on.  Finally, he lifted down the lamp.  We were lavish in our praise.  Thrift Shop customers are absolutely the greatest.

19 December 2025