I am such a little kid.
Let me explain. For the past couple of weeks, Buzz, the garbage disposal who walks like a dog, and I have been semi-trapped in the spacious confines of Dude Manor by road construction that’s been happening on the road that runs past our cul de sac.
Well, not literally trapped, it’s just Buzz doesn’t like walking by all the loud construction equipment. Something to do with very loud noises and very sensitive ears. Either that or he’s a wimp. I haven’t really decided.
Anyway, the other day Buzz and I went out for his morning walk. This is one of those where it’s necessary he actually get out and walk because there’s several presents he needs to leave in his wake and lots of little liquid notes he needs to leave for the more sniff-improved in the neighborhood.
So we head out to the end of our street and there it was.
Moving very slowly and very loudly from left to right was the asphalt spreader. Led by a dump truck constantly dropping raw asphalt into the hopper at the front of the asphalt spreader, the machine slowly moves along the under-construction road laying down the smooth, black top to the road.
It’s really amazing. In front of the spreader, only packed gravel road. As it passes, it leaves behind a smooth road, ready for painters, lines and drivers. Steaming in the cool morning air, the asphalt is beautiful, black and unmarked.
It’s a wonderful sight.
But not nearly as wonderful as what came thundering along behind the asphalt spreader.
Buzz and I stood there, enraptured. Well, I was enraptured, feeling my (not so very buried) inner child jumping up and down with glee on the inside, as I watched this magnificent machine. Buzz, the garbage disposal who walks like a dog, sort of sat relatively
still, facing away from all the good stuff, trying to pretend it wasn’t happening.
That’s when I noticed the ground shaking, heard the rumbling and realized what was coming.
And it was.
Moving slowly up the hill from the left slowly came the greatest construction vehicle ever made: the steamroller.
The ground shook. My legs vibrated and my eyeballs shook behind their glasses. It was an awesome feeling, like I was standing next to something more real than anything I’d ever experienced. This was a machine designed to change the world, one lumpy bit at a time.
Okay, true. It’s designed to change the world from lumpy to smooth, so it’s not all that much, but it’s still a change that this machine is so very sweetly designed to make. It’s beautifully. Its form screams its function. And it performs its function so very, very well.
The asphalt spreader left behind an elevated section of smooth, black road. The steamroller came along and left after it a much compacted road, crushed down to almost the same height as the road that was there before.
I’d have stayed there, grinning like an idiot, for a lot longer had Buzz not pulled me out of my reverie and started demanding that I actually get a move on so he could make his visits.
I left, reluctantly, pushing down the little dude inside me to a more manageable depth.
He went. But he still hovered there, excited, throwing up memories of that amazing duo of machines moving past. And I loved it.
I am such a child sometimes.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.