The old 19th-century building I live in is falling apart, and its owners have finally got a plan to fix the worst of its issues. I thought at first it would be pretty straightforward construction work—but what's actually unfolded has been a full-on construction opera that I watch delightedly from my window above the scene. Yesterday, as the workmen unloaded their truck, the owner of an adjacent building ran up, gesturing wildly. Minutes later, the police arrived. More gesturing. Lamenting. The act ended; the neighbor had won the battle. This morning: act two began. The set changed as one of our windows was boarded over. Now, a man is riding back and forth across the building on a lift two stories in the air. It's hard not to watch, and even harder not to imagine his operatic songs. (How do you say This mortar needs an overhaul" in Italian?)
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Becca Quon | she/her/hers
Council on Library & Information Resources (CLIR)
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