I am the Sound

I'm sweeping my porch, or "veranda" as they call it here. Although, such a term conjures peaceful images of a shady, columned patio overgrown with ivy, not the likes of my screened-in, tiled front entrance way. It's Friday, and the neighborhood is pulsing with the frenetic activity that only a weekend could bring about. Music and telenovelas blare from each and every house-except mine. I have but a measly sound system, comprised of an iPod plugged into a miniscule set of baby speakers. O, Big Lots, you've given me quite the deal at $7.50, but I fear my music is in an uphill battle against the likes of Bryan Adams, Michael Bolton and Poder Paralelo. I'm sweeping my porch, and from out here I can't tell if the woman singing in my kitchen is Joanna Newsom or Lauryn Hill. But it's ok because the dashing, shaggy-haired protagonist just rescued the damsel from the maniacal villian on Poder Paralelo and the crowd is going wild. Cheers, clapping and similar outbursts of victory fill the night air, and I can't help but think it's the closest thing I have to Sunday afternoon football.