The upshot of all my complaining about the handyman is that, for whatever reason, Tim's Water Company showed up after dark and loosened the cap on the fire hydrant in front of my house.

It was dark outside. Water gushed and flowed profusely down the street. This usually only happens in the summer when the temperature is in the high 90's or above. On television you see kids squeal and giggle as they run through the water and cool off under the sizzling sun.

It is winter now.

I kept thinking of a sexual metaphor, as if there was some buildup of pressure in the deepness of the earth. You know, it's probably a pipe connected to the hydrant. They break all the time, and you see crews of workmen standing in ditches with shovels and other tools, along with exposed pipes. They usually make such a mess that traffic must slow, and you can't help notice how fraught with difficulty it all is.

Do you think the water men are acting from deep psychological impulses? Had they seen some movie where the sultry weather is matched only by some equally sultry female standing on the porch wearing a flimsy cotton dress clinging provocatively to her voluptuous form as she gently dabs at the perspiration beading on her brow? You've seen it, I'm sure. There are several versions of that film.

I thought of Grain's hot little dance from Excalibur, the movie, much like Salome's hot little dance for Herod from the Bible. Look what happened.

Does the handyman have secret and deep, possibly even perverse (in the opinion of the PTA) longings, some strange and unfulfilled, even unrequited cravings that cause him to toss back and forth on his straw mattress in his lair, cravings so demanding that he can not even give words to his urges? This is probably what happened to the Neanderthals.

It is too soon to tell if there will be a change in the water pressure in my home.