...Right smack dab in the middle of town/ I've found a paradise that's trouble proof....
"It's National Get On Your Roof day!" a sucker-punch-gorgeous Latina announces to unimpressed passers-by. "So, get on your roof!" I smile, remember sneaking out my window late at night, just to sit on the roof and gaze at the moon. If my mother knew, she never let on. Some of the thrill was the illicitness of the jaunt, thinking that I might sneak down a nearby tree and go prowling around town, which I never did. This young lady sits in broad daylight. I wave; she waves back. Or perhaps she waved to the dog.
And do I scramble home, put the kids to bed and slither out my bedroom window, to observe the quiet street below, to hear extra-loud crickets and distant traffic?
Before verifying that this is, in fact, National Sit On Your Roof Day.
Just in case it isn't.
(Up On The Roof; The Drifters)