Do you ever wonder how even-keeled you are, maybe compared to other people? I do.

Over the last year or so, I've been fixing up my house, a place that was a fixer-upper when I bought it. Although it's in stable structural shape, it's pretty much needed everything else. The Dining Room ceiling was falling in because of bad plumbing, and I could tell it had happened before.

So rather than patch the ceiling, I replaced it with a reproduction (= made from plastic) tin ceiling, the thinking being that if there were future problems, the panels could be pulled to get to the plumbing.

This morning, coming down the stairs, I heard the dreaded sound of water tap tap tapping onto the floor. A leak.

Well of course I freaked out. How much is THIS going to cost? I thought, as I pulled out some of the panels. Water pours down as I pull one panel aside. *sigh* I could have predicted this; the drains above are a hodge-podge of pipes that more accurately resemble the inside of a tuba. Water drips from one of the joints. As I feel my heart pressure rise, I decide I better sit down and chill out; try to think this one through...

Someone is at the door.

"Hey, Hugshyhermit, man," it's my tenant's son, "Here's your spackle back."

"So, you're almost out of here, huh?"

"Yeah yeah, leaving tomorrow. What are you up to?"

"Well, I guess I should have believed your mom when she said pipes this old can't handle Draino."

"Oh holy shit! Hey that was a good thing you put up those ceiling panels."

"What did you need the spackle for? Holes in your Dining Room ceiling?"

"Ha ha, nothing like that. We've had no plumbing problems. What do you think you're going to do?"

"That's what I was sitting here trying to figure out."

We chat some more. Small talk. He walks around looking at all the posters I've got hanging on the walls. He's leaving; it sounds like he was pretty much kicked out. He's been out of work for a year-and-a-half and he and his mother, my tenant, have not been speaking of late. In his place, his brother (half-brother, to be technical) and my tenant's youngest son will be moving in.

When I first met the youngest of her kids a year or so ago, I thought he was the oldest. That was based on no more superficial observations than that he drives a GM four-door sedan, has a 4 year old daughter and a girlfriend who likes to wear sophisticated pantsuits (no jeans!). Hopefully I didn't look too surprised when I learned from his mom he is only 22 and his girlfriend is 19.

The gay couple across the street cornered me last week getting out of the car. "We saw your new tenant, he's a little hottie."

"He's also a little straight."

"That's what they all say. We'll have him over to watch the game and there will be porn in the VCR - 'Oh, how did that get in there?'"

Aha ha ha.

The Ladies next door -- yes I live in a little gay mecca, ha ha -- cornered me too, on a different occasion. "I hope they're going to be quiet. I don't want no partying going on. This is a quiet neighborhood."

Yes yes yes.

So, I'm sitting here and my tenant's son is walking around looking at everything. "Man, Hugshyhermit, you have a lot of CD's."

"Uh huh, I try going through them and weeding things out, but I don't get rid of much."

"You have a wide variety of music tastes, huh?"

"I guess."

"Well OK I'll let you get on with stuff, but I'll stop by before I go to say goodbye."

"Ok."

And now I'm sitting at the table underneath the leak, typing out this blog entry. I've got a bucket in place to catch the water. I still haven't decided what I'll do for sure: A patch of tar over the joint? Or, and more likely, a plumber to take out and clean up all the piping. There goes this week's paycheck, but, like they say in the TV commercials, Peace of Mind -- Priceless.