Ralph Is On the Roof

Ralph-the-Roofer inspected our roof before we bought our house in May. He explained that the roof was shot. He provided copious glossy photos and wrote up a detailed report. He warned that it was leaking into the attic and that the underlay needed immediate replacement, before the next rainy season. This was not a simple matter since we have a cap and pan tile roof vintage 1978. It’s old and a repair is a complex, time-consuming project. We negotiated the price of our house based on Ralph’s estimate of $10,000 to fix the roof. The sellers agreed to split the cost with us and knocked $5,000 from the sale price.

After we bought the house, I called Ralph and asked him to do the work. He mailed me a contract that listed the cost of repair at $16,000! Wait a minute, how did the price inflate like that? I got two more estimates from other roofers. Both were twice as much as Ralph’s quote. Ralph was the best game in town. I resigned myself to going over budget on the roof. Then I spent over two months attempting to get Ralph to answer his phone. Office phone. Home phone. Cell phone. Could NOT get this man to respond. I left a message every day. I left notes in the mailbox at his office. One day I saw him standing by the side of the road talking to someone in a truck. Eeeee, wheels screeched, I pulled over, jumped out of my car, and grabbed him by the lapels. Ralph! Ralph! Help me! Help my roof!

Ralph and I had a heart-to-heart in the garage of his shop after that. It turns out that Ralph lost his crew. One guy left town. One guy decided he never wanted to work as a roofer again as long as he lived. One guy committed a felony and went to prison (honestly). One guy went into hiding because of a bad tattoo. The dog ate Ralph’s contracts. He got a flat tire. His cell phone fell in the lake and stopped working (this one was real, I kid you not). But, the good news for me was that Ralph had cancelled all his big summer jobs so he had time for mine. He promised he’d be at my house Monday morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and he’d just plug away and do my roof alone. He promised to have it done in three weeks, well before the rainy season. On August 9, Ralph started working on my roof. He is still up there. In case you hadn’t noticed, it is now October. I wonder if he will want to join us for Thanksgiving dinner. It has rained several times since Ralph tore our roof open and removed our skylights. He thoughtfully rolled out plastic. I should be grateful for small favors I suppose.

During the roof job, he has frequently disappeared for days, sometimes weeks, at a time. I can’t get him on his phone when I call so I gave up, even though I hear him on my roof talking on his cell phone all day long. He never tells me when he’ll be up there and when he won’t. Sometimes he wakes us up at seven in the morning on a Sunday hammering and pounding. Sometimes he turns up at three in the afternoon, works for two hours, and leaves. Six or seven different helpers have traipsed through and lasted a day or two with him. One day some guy turned up with his teenager to see if Ralph would hire the kid to work on our roof. Three weeks ago Ralph took our skylight out and put it in the front yard. He covered the hole with a board and informed me I needed a new skylight, which I ordered. They said it would take two weeks (so far three have elapsed). It would have been good to have had a heads up on that skylight a few weeks ago. Once, when Ralph had disappeared for a week, I realized he had left water leaking from a hose on the roof. It took me several days to notice it. I dread the water bill.

One morning last week Ralph’s wife called me to tell me Ralph had just dropped a nail through my skylight and he wanted to warn me not to step on it. “Jill,” I said, “why are you calling? Why didn’t Ralph call? Or ring my doorbell? Or just come inside and retrieve the nail?” Jill had no idea. If she has no idea then I haven’t a chance because she’s been married to Ralph for thirty years.

A few days after I put my Obama/Biden sign out on the front lawn, Ralph called down to me, “What’s the difference between a Democrat and a Republican?” I thought he was about to tell a roofing joke. He was serious. His sister-in-law watches Fox News all day long and is a rabid Sarah Palin fan. Ralph wanted my advice on how to convince her to vote for Obama. I suggested a strong shot of Scotch and anti-psychotic medication. Apparently Ralph is an outcast in his very Republican family because he plans to vote for Obama. While I brainstormed with Ralph about how to convert his family in time for the election, I couldn’t help but notice that my roof is still not even remotely close to being completed. The skylight replacement has still not arrived. Rain is in the forecast again. But at least Ralph is on the roof. And he’s voting for Obama. Thanks for listening. I feel much better.