Our deck rocks, not like the hit bands MGMT and STYX, but like a structure that is about to let go of its integrity. I knew from the day that we bought the house that it would need help. Nails are awesome, but they come loose. Metal poles are great, but they rust. And having your Uncle Henry do the planing is never a good idea. For several years I’ve been mentally engineering various upgrades to ol’ shakes-a-lot. Some are simple and have to do with glue and wreaths, other plans are more complex and involve a 1,500 square foot addition on the house. Somewhere in between are bolts.

Large and in charge, these 5/8th by 6″ galvanized bolts will hold additional wolmanized lumber up to the existing stuff, thereby helping the whole thing stay together and rock less. I can’t help but think of this as being temporary, since the next step will involve putting up a new deck that won’t need assistance from bolts, at least not more than would be originally installed. We’re not far from new deckdom.

The catch is this: nothing lasts forever. Even if they had used the best materials (Trex, for example) and the best installation crew (someone else, for example), someone would have to eventually go in, reinforce, or make the decision to rip it down and start over. Nothing lasts forever. Old Tiger Stadium. Andy Rooney. The incredible fame and talent of the band STYX. It all fades. Ecclesiastes is right. It would seem hopeless.

It’s not hopeless. Things are actually in very good shape. We look forward to all new. New life, new hope. New heavens, new earth. Old gone. New here. Think about this: the reason to rebuild a deck in heaven? Not because of decay or even bad construction, if that could exist in such a place. It would be because you wanted to build a new deck, just for kicks. If I had time and energy and endless resources, I think I’d do that. Who knows?

Until then, it’s bolts. Temporary. Someday replaced. Their clock is ticking.