Pyramids and Seth Meyers

There’s not much to report for my Thursday so far.

These past few weeks, My Guy and I have been alternatively jumping through hoops, pulling our hair out, and pounding the floor in dealing with our contractor and our HOA in order to have some work done on our condo. We’d like to switch the screens on our porch for big sliding windows. I think next time we’ll just erect a life-sized replica of the Great Pyramid of Giza. It would be easier.

Now it seems the window people want a copy of our permission for the project from the HOA. We do have a letter stating we have permission as long as we jumped through three particular hoops. We’ve cleared all three, so now we called today to request a written statement to that effect.

You may not believe this, but our condo complex’s management company doesn’t use email. Oh, and they can’t take a picture of the letter and message it that way. They don’t do that either. I’ve never been to their offices, but I’m picturing something out of Dickens with scribes on stools scratching away with quill pens.

 And in spite of apocalyptic weather reports – temps today and tomorrow should be in the upper 90s – I played golf this morning. We were out earlier enough that I was home before the heat really arrived, so that was good. But at the 5^th hole, one young guy had hit his ball over from another hole onto our fairway. We paused play so he could hit it back on course. After he hit, one of the ladies I played with noticed the huge tattoo that covered nearly the entire side of his calf.

“So what’s your tattoo there?”

He said proudly, “Oh, it’s not finished – it needs more detail, but it’s Seth Meyers.”

We wished him well, and he returned to his side of the course.

Two thoughts come to mind. First, that’s going to look lovely in forty years’ time. Second, in forty years’ time will anyone even know who Seth Meyers was?”