How dirty can something be?

Memorial day. I am house sitting at my step-dads and feeding his cat while he's up north visiting his brother. He lives on a private lake that doesn't allow any gas powered engines on the lake. Which means no speed boats and no jet skis, which means quiet. You buy property on this lake because you enjoy the peace and quiet of living on a lake and not the noise of gas powered boats.

New neighbors just moved into the house next door. A couple from Detroit who bought the house as a weekend getaway. Memorial day was the only nice day of the weekend. Pure sunshine drying up the weekends rain. 75 degrees in the sun and a soft wind to keep it cool. Perfect weather for a quiet Memorial day on the lake.

I was enjoying the sounds of summer from screened in porch. Drinking an Oberon and reading Michael Chabon's The Yiddish Poliemen's Union. It was the definition of relaxation, for about twenty minutes.

Then the powerwashing starts.


The new neighbors began spraying down his deck with the high speed water, driving his family who had been sitting there off it and into the house. He started around 4pm, which is prime time at this lake because it's when the sun is really in the perfect spot to warm up the houses on the side we were on. It's prime swimming and relaxing time.

Since I could no longer read due to the amazingly loud powerwasher running, I threw my book and a couple of Oberons on the boat and started it's quiet electric motor and drove it to the other side of the lake. Even on the other side of the lake you could still hear a faint roar of the engine.

He powerwashed for two hours. TWO HOURS!!!!! I should add that the deck was built at the end of last summer and was never used because the owner sold the house. How dirty was this deck? How clean must it be? His daughter was out there scrubbing it down BEFORE he powerwashed. TWO HOURS!!!!

Once I had enough sun and silence and I could no longer heard the noise of the washer I headed back home, parked the boat, and proceeded to grill a steak. I opened up all the windows in the house to get sounds of birds chirping and kids splashing into the lake as I ate.

I was home about 10 minutes before he started again. ROOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAARRRRR. Blasting that horribly dirty deck again.


Instead of a chirping birds, wind in the leaves, and kids splashing in the lake while I ate I got, ROOOOOAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. So, I closed up all the windows and listened to some music while I enjoyed my juicy steak. After dinner he seemed to be done, so I went down to our dock (which hasn't been washed in 15 years, much less power washed) to do some writing.

I was sitting there for about five minutes when he started again. At this point I felt sorry for the guy. I mean if the joy of your Memorial Day is running an amazingly loud and obnoxious machine your life is sad. And if it was some sort of pathological need to show dominance then it's really sad. I just put my headphones on and listened to Pearl Jam cover Neil Young while my neighbor attacked the microscopic dirt particles of his deck. When he was done, I took them off and enjoyed the last touches of sunlight before the day ended.

Total time powerwashing at this point 3 hours. The deck is about the size of a living room. Imagine vacuuming your living room for 3 hours.

I really never got angry at the guy. I mean common courtesy is dead as we know it anyway. I have become immune to the noise making people need to create around them. People talk in movie theaters as if they're in their own living room. I can't go to a coffee shop without someone flipping open their cell phone and yelling into it the details of their day.

I just can't understand why someone would want to spend a beautiful Memorial day with your wife and two grown children spraying water on wood. I started a great book, worked out the kinks in a story, had a wonderful meal, all while soaking up the sun.