Tuesday, August 28, 2018

A Room With a View (My View)

The people and animals in the house know that the big chair in the living room is my chair. It's my base of operations. It's where I'm sitting now. From the big chair I can see easily see two-thirds of the house at a glance, living room, kitchen, dining room, front door and front window. The view out the front window is our yard, the sidewalk, the street and the neighborhood beyond. Lovely. Bucolic, in a severely suburban way. I am the monarch of all I survey. Obviously.

And, then the sign happened.

I sat down in the big chair with my coffee, early Sunday morning. I looked outside the front window and my gaze was instantly met with a hideous, yellow sign advertising "We Buy Houses" with an 800 number. The sign was on the telephone pole across the street, hung high to discourage removal. Destroying the view, my lovely view. No. This would not stand.

CUT TO: Mr. Rosenberg (tall - 6'4" Mr. Rosenberg) on a step stool attempting to pull down the sign but cant't quite reach it.

CUT TO: Mr. Rosenberg on a ladder he's dragged across the street, attempting to rip the (extremely sturdy) sign down with his bare hands.

CUT TO: An increasingly irritated Mr. Rosenberg attempting to pry the (awful, dreaded) sign off of the pole with a hammer. My coffee and I watched from the front window but pretended we didn't.

CUT TO: A now incensed Mr. Rosenberg (quietly incensed, it is Mr. Rosenberg after all) attempting to destroy the sign with a wrench and hammer combination.

The wrench/hammer/curse words combo did the trick. The sign was wrestled successfully into one of our garbage bins.  Victory was ours.

And forty minutes later, peace is restored to the kingdom. (The suburban kingdom.)


  1. It IS a nice view! less the ad, for sure

  2. Amen, Sister! I, too, loathe those signs. We buy houses, pressure washing, temp agencies, whatever. I tear 'em down. And struggle at times doing so, too. Nice to Mr. R. was on it.