Out here on the porch this morning as I am most mornings, trying to enjoy the cool air while it remains and listen to the birds and whatnot. Somewhere in there I start to hear this weird droning noise, some kind of compressor. It keeps going.
Is it in our basement? Is it Caroline and Jamie's HVAC? After a while I have to investigate, so I go and change into outdoor flipflops and head out with my cup of coffee. It seems to be coming from the other side of the park, maybe Scott and Olga's, which would be problematic because they're in France for a month or so. So I start walking that way. As I get out into the lake parking lot it seems to be coming from a little Subaru and as I come to the other side of it I discover that the culprit is a guy inflating a stand-up paddleboard.
I'm sorry, but to my mind running a compressor for 15 minutes to inflate your little toy falls squarely within the broad prohibition on running small machines on Sunday morning: lawn mowers, leaf blowers, all of that. This is the South. It's not done. I like to had kicked the guy's ass but I was only in flip flops and carrying my coffee. Next time.
Nb. 10 minutes later someone else is doing the same thing down closer to the lake.
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