Wednesday, August 14, 2013

A Head for Heights

I've been having a lot of trouble with my roof lately. 

At first I was very upset about this.  I mean, come on, it's a new roof.  Just had it done last year.  And all of a sudden I got leaks in my kitchen again?  Hey, roofer-- what gives?

Finally after a series of increasingly desperate phone calls the roofing company sent the foreman who did the roof last year and his two assistants out to my home.  The two young guys got out the ladders while I chatted on the ground with the boss.

The good news is, the new roof is fine.  The bad news is, there's a section of flat roof up there that has been causing the problems.  So now I get to talk to insurance companies and all that fun stuff.  I swear my next home will be a cave.

But the interesting news. to  me anyway, was that Jose, the foreman, had worked on this house before.  He knew the previous owner and his family.

"You know, I always say a flat roof is trouble,"  said Jose.  (I concur.  I had one in Queens.  Rained in the bedroom once.)  "Lucky for you the flat part is really small.  But it was big enough for the owners' kids- they used to lie  up there and smoke dope.  I always wondered how they got there."

My theory:  It was probably the kids who insisted on putting those skylights in the attic. Just a theory.

But the more I think about it, the nuttier this plan of indulging in illegal substances seems.  I mean, come on-- what kind of an idiot decides the best place to get stoned is a roof?  Two and a half stories above the ground?  The risk is obvious, right?

But maybe not.  Maybe they wanted to enjoy the view- the stars at night, the leaves in the fall, the squirrels racing among the trees.  Certainly they could not have dreamed of getting a tan. This is Minnesota, after all.

Unless that was reeeeeaaal good stuff.

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