When cut­ting a rug isn’t ex­actly like danc­ing in the street

North Penn Life - - Accent -

Never did I think I’d be do­ing on­line re­search on how to cut car­pet. There’s an hour of my life that I’ll likely never get back, huh?

But there I was this week­end, look­ing for in­for­ma­tion on cut­ting car­pet. Not be­cause I was ac­tu­ally go­ing to cut car­pet. No, no, no. That would be silly. I can’t do that, I’m al­ler­gic to tools. What I wanted to know was where ex­actly would be the best place to cut car­pet.

I didn’t think it was smack dab in the mid­dle of the street right in front of my house.

Imag­ine my sur­prise, then, on Sun­day when I got back into my neigh­bor­hood af­ter run­ning erUDnGV WR finG D ODUJH — DnG , PHDn big — roll of car­pet right in the mid­dle of the street near my house. It was stretched nearly across the en­tire road, leav­ing just enough room for me to ma­neu­ver my car around it and into my drive­way.

Hmmm, I thought. It’s about time Pen­nDOT got around to car­pet­ing our street. We al­ways seem to be last on the list for the snow­plow to come through, so it would have been no sur­prise to me if we were last on the list for the street car­pet­ing project as well?

But the big roll of car­pet looked like it had fallen off the back of a truck or some­thing. Once I re­al­ized it wasn’t a Pen­nDOT project, I lol­ly­gagged a bit in the drive­way be­fore go­ing into the house to see if any­one was go­ing to come along and claim it. For a brief moment, I thought I could quickly sum­mon Son of Blonde Ac­coun­tant and the two of us could get the big roll into the garage be­fore any­one no­ticed it was miss­ing.

BXW WKDW wDV RnOy D flHHWLnJ thought of what would have been a bad plan be­cause the two of us wouldn’t have been able to lift the doggone thing and I surely would have pulled a ham­string or some­thing. Plus, nHLWKHU RI XV LV HxDFWOy flHHW RI foot, es­pe­cially when tot­ing a 1,000-pound roll of car­pet, so it’s not like we could have ac­com­plished the task in a hurry to avoid de­tec­tion.

“Did you see what’s in the mid­dle of the street?” I said to The Blonde Ac­coun­tant once I got in­side the house.

“Ya, it’s a big roll of car­pet. It’s been out there for a while. I’m about ready to call the po­lice,” she said.

I’m not sure how that call would have gone.

“Hello, po­lice de­part­ment? Our street is be­ing in­vaded by a big roll of car­pet. Can you send some in­te­rior dec­o­ra­tors and in­stall­ers right over to take care of this?”

Mon­i­tor­ing the sit­u­a­tion from my liv­ing room, it even­tu­ally be­came clear that one of the neigh­bors was in­deed hav­ing some new car­pet in­stalled. (Noth­ing gets by me.) Two work­ers de­scended into the street to un­roll the car­pet, mea­sure it and be­gin the cut­ting process.

At one point, it looked like the grounds crew at Ci­ti­zens Bank Park had un­rolled the tarp in an­tic­i­pa­tion of a rain de­lay.

All the while, the work­ers seemed obliv­i­ous to the cars slowly inch­ing their way around them while they worked. In the mid­dle of the street for cry­ing out loud. And not a rain cloud in sight.

Hey, kids have played in the street since the in­ven­tion of kids and streets. I did, too. But what­ever we were do­ing — play­ing catch, rid­ing our bikes, draw­ing with chalk — we got out of the way when the cars came by. Cars own the streets, or so I thought. Ap­par­ently, car­pet in­stall­ers now own the streets.

Even us­ing some or­ange cones would have at least given drivers some pause that the road was be­ing car­peted.

This is where I missed a golden op­por­tu­nity, though. I should have marched right out there like a good re­porter and asked the two work­ers what the heck were they do­ing. Their an­swers cer­tainly would have made for a bet­ter story. But I didn’t.

Turns out that fur­ther re­search in­di­cated that the car­pet cut­ters were in the right church, but the wrong pew. Ac- cord­ing to one web­site I found that of­fered tips for cut­ting car­pet: “rn­roll the sec­tion of car­pet­ing on a flat sur­face that can hold up to scratch­ing, such as the floor of the back pa­tio, or the drive­way.”

The drive­way is close to the street. My ex­pe­ri­ence, how­ever, in­di­cates that there usu­ally is OHVV WUDI­fiF Ln WKH GULYHwDy WKDn there is on the street, which the­o­ret­i­cally means fewer chances to get run over by a ve­hi­cle.

Really, though, this is about as much as I want to know about cut­ting car­pet — that it ap­par­ently can be done in the street in front of my house by two guys com­pletely obliv­i­ous to any traf­fiF.

Some­body should have been called on the car­pet for that.

Mike Morsch is ex­ec­u­tive ed­i­tor of Mont­gomery Me­dia and au­thor of the book, “Danc­ing in My Un­der­wear: The Sound­track of My Life.” He can be reached by call­ing 215-542-0200, ext. 415 or by email at msquared35@ya­hoo.com. This col­umn can also be found at www.mont­gomerynews.com.

Outta Left­field Mike Morsch

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