it's jamaica my weekend and i don't care.
let me explain: for the last eight years i lived in an apartment that we loved most of the time. it wasn't ours, there was noisy nights, and some other random stuff. but we did enjoy the place.
however, the back yard of our duplex backed up to a little green area in the tower district, which is owned by st. theres' church. every year they rent out the lot to a reggae concert called jamaica my weekend. it's a cool show if you're into reggae. but if you're a neighbor it can be a bit of a hassle. why?
well, like all concerts it can be pretty loud. that's a bit to be expected, but it sucks when you're sitting in your home and can't really watch your own tv, carry on a conversation, or maybe even think. it starts with sound checking around 3 pm and carries on until after 10 pm when it shuts down. then you noise of everyone walking away from the event.
even though it was loud and annoyed me, i lived with it. you accept these sorts of things to live in the most vibrant neighborhood in fresno.
about a year ago we moved a few streets over from our apartment into a lovely little house. i've been relaxing on my couch all afternoon and decided that i wanted to go out and turn on my sprinklers in my back yard. what did i hear?
reggae music. from blocks away. and i remembered it was jamaica my weekend. and it didn't bother me at all. what a nice feeling.