Hit Me, I'm Open!

Police lights are not great for catching a flying disc.

Construction, generally speaking, is awesome.

If you look closely, you'll see
Pennywise in the bushes. It is
Maine, after all.
Last night I came home from work and took in the scene about 40 yards from our driveway. A giant backhoe was digging out the middle of the street. The city is replacing our stormwater system after it blew out last year (taking a half-block of sidewalk with it).

For drivers, this is a trainwreck. For people walking home from work, it is a Godsend.

It was earlyish, by newspaper standards, to get home from work. At 10:15 p.m., the neighbors were out in the street throwing a Frisbee around. I was tired and wanted to go to bed. But at a point, instincts kick in. Especially when you realize you know the guys chucking the Frisbee around.

"Hit me," I said, "I'm open."

The neighbor chucked the Frisbee. I might have caught it. I might not. There was no scoring system, so who cares?

So we chucked a Frisbee around last night. I sent more than a few throws off-line. It's been a while since I played Ultimate on our high school football field with the track team. And I dropped a few good throws. Flashing police lights are not super helpful for catching a Frisbee. That is my excuse.

There was a police officer on one end, directing a steady stream of traffic away from our stretch of road. He didn't care that we were playing, though our disc did buzz the back of his car a couple of times. Behind us was construction work, complete with giant spotlights illuminating the street. It was around 68 degrees and not humid. In my lifetime, these ideal conditions will not likely exist again in the near future.
A moodier pic.

It reminded me of Lakeland, Minnesota. In the late 1980s, the cable TV trucks finally rumbled into town. They tore a 10-foot gash all the way down our street and all the way down every street as far as the eye could see. Joyously for 11-year-old boys, they also left piles of dirt as far as far as the eye could see. Laser Tag® was never more fun in the history of the Earth.

Further back in time, I distinctly remember riding my little BMX bike onto Interstate 94 with my Dad. Ordinarily, this would be a good time to call social services. But the interstate, a new stretch of road, hadn't opened yet. We had miles and miles of tarmac all to ourselves. Over 30 years later, I'm confident I'm one of maybe dozens of people who can say they have ever ridden their bike down that stretch of I-94. Particularly on a BMX bike.

These moments don't come around often enough. Sure, the construction will probably still be going next weekend. But somebody will probably be at a lake cabin or there will probably be something else going on. Maybe I don't take time enough to revel in the day-to-day. I'm great at checklists. I love a day that involves grocery shopping and cooking and a little cleaning and some laundry and perhaps a dog hike and maybe a run.

So what's your takeaway here? Throw Frisbees more? Too simple. Support construction projects? Sure. I mean, if your storm drains blow out, you should probably fix that. Stop and smell the roses? Cliche. Still, when I walked into the house an hour later than usual, I had to wonder: What was I in such a rush to get home for?

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