In preparation for a series of meetings at my apartment (which also houses my studio) I decided to do some re-arranging. In the process of moving furniture I discovered just how dirty the carpet had become since they were cleaned six months ago. Los Angeles is a very dusty environment, and the fact that I live in-town (between a major surface street to the south and major highway to the north) only compounds the effect. Every time I clean the glass-top table on my porch, the cloth comes up black – not grey, not a dusty brown – but black. Inevitably that works it’s way into (and all over) the place. So with a short week coming up I simply didn’t have time to rent a commercial cleaner or hire a service. I did the best I could with the cleaning equipment I had and moved on to bigger and better things (including some work in the studio that needed attention). I figured I’d look into it next week after the hubbub with the NAMM show in Anaheim was over.
Then lo and behold, I heard a bunch of racket in the hallway this morning. I thought someone was trying to break a hole in the wall – so I stuck my head out the door only to see a guy dragging a huge carpet cleaning apparatus down the hallway. It turns out they’re cleaning carpets in the place next to mine, and I was able to slip them a bill or two to get them to take care of my place at the same time. I’m not a huge proponent of divine intervention when it comes to the mundane things in life. I’m more of a “I should have died in that motorcycle crash, and yet I barely have a scratch on me” kind of believer. But there are times when I feel like someone, somewhere has cut me a break – and this is one of them. Call it a miracle, call it divine intervention, call it kizmet – I don’t care. When the little things break your way – particularly in the context of a very challenging 2009 – it’s hard to ignore.
Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket today…
