Massachusetts Table Saw Massacre

Well, we are having a regular scorcher here in Boston, 70-something degrees, which means that we’ve opened the windows. Last September, I remember it took me a few nights to get used to the sounds of the city coming in so stridently through my windows along with the breeze:

• drunken college stumbling from the bars to their cars, singing, howling, and finally puking
• loud Brazilian pop music blasting from my neighbors’ apartments (I wish they liked Bossa Nova instead, oh well)
• one particular Celine Dionne album over and over and over (I started singing along eventually.)
• children laughing and toddlers gurgling (My neighbors have 4 or 5 darlings who seem to always be playing joyfully outside.)
• emergency vehicle sirens howling, though they do so intermittently here, only when people are actually in their way, rather than nonstop until they reach their destination like they do back home
• firecrackers detonating at midnight on what I can only assume to be traditional holidays in some culture (not mine)
• the can lady rolling her groaning, overfilled shopping cart and rifling through our recyclables (In the summer she wears a traditional Asian rice-paddy hat, the kind that looks like a flattened cone.)
• one mystery sound, which Scott proudly figured out last Fall: The taco truck comes every morning at 8:15 am to the post office behind us and toots his old fashioned horn to let them know that breakfast is here.

But, the hullabaloo soon went away, because it got too freakin’ cold and we shut out the chill and the noise. It’s now back, with screaming table saws from our g*ddamn next-door neighbor’s landlord. He’s building an ugly wall and it’s making an ugly racket. At 10 am on a Saturday. I’m having murderous thoughts.

[Image from: http://www.event.is/frettir/nr/38]