The topic is not well covered. Seach the web and you won't find much on it -- even though it happens all the time right here in Ann Arbor. What is orangeberg? Next time you're driving in the west side, pay attention to the road. Look for 12' x 12' patches of asphault. This is evidence of the orange ugliness to which I refer.

"Houses built between 1940 and 1970 have a high probability of the use of orangeberg pipe (basically just asphalt-impregnated cardboard) for the sewer lateral from the house to the property line. This pipe is proving to be totally inadequate and is needing replacement due to collapse, deterioration, and susceptibility to root infestation. If you have this type of pipe and have work done on it, replacement of all of this type of pipe in compliance with current plumbing codes all the way out to the property line is strongly recommended."

About a year ago, a suspicious crack appeared in the front of the house which began to ooze a murky fluid. We started calling around and service folks kept uttering "could be orangeberg" or "it's probably orangeberg" or the worst, "oh yeah, that area is all orangeberg."

We began to both fear and have great respect for this guy named Orangeberg.

So, when the duct tape no longer concealed it, we broke down and called in the professionals to help is investigate and remedy our problem. The rooter guys weren't sure of anything but they were "willing to try" bless their hearts, for only a few hundred bucks they would bring in a sewer-cam to give us a look at our problem.

To the left is a print-out of money well spent! You'll never guess what we learned ... 12' under the street within a 4" sewer pipe it's generally pretty dark! In fact, way too dark for that snake-like camera to see anything! However, they did confirm the pipe did contain a matching murky fluid -- so we were making progress!

The rooter guys said we needed to call in the big guns for this one and the name we kept hearing was "Diggit!" We were concerned when Jeff from Diggit also echoed the O-word during our initial phone consultation. The next day, he was out to take a look.

Jeff delicately explained that sometimes sewer pipes just wear out and that they must be replaced. It was a good news/bad news thing: "The good news: you probably don't have Orangeberg! The bad news: you're still going to have to pay a guy like me to fix it." (he had the same smile then too)

After I got over the shock of having to pay for someone to dig a hole in a city street, something happened. I think this is a type of financial survival instinct guys have. I had finally reached the point in my life where I could afford to dig a really deep hole with backhoes, front-loaders and real dump trucks. I was about to live a childhood fantasy.

The next morning, I was out there waiting for my Diggit buddies to arrive. I personally had the pleasure of spreading orange warning cones all over my street. I had hoped for those big barrels, but it was still pretty cool. I was soon to be one of "men-at-work."

Actually, I didn't do any of the work. I offered to help, but the only equipment Jeff said I was authorized to use was the broom. Most of their stuff was pretty loud and dirty, so mostly I just took pictures and hung-out. When Margaret my neighbor stopped by, I hid the camera and leaned on a shovel. I was doin the, "Yeah, me and my homeboys are doing some man-work here. You better step back, this is dangerous stuff."

It didn't hit home until that "big thing with the shovel in front" began to rip apart the street. I remember saying, I'm really digging a deep hole in the street - this is awesome."

I was out there directing traffic - although Jeff kept yelling something about, "get out of the street you moron" -- which I guess he was shouting at motorists as they drove by. Dang rubberneckers! What? Never seen men work before!

This was one of the proudest days of my adult male life.

Jeff put me in charge of getting lunch and Diet Cokes - which seems pretty trivial but without carbohydrates, the whole machine comes to a grinding halt. When I returned, there it was -- a really deep hole in the street -- complete with a ladder leading down to the pool of murk.

At this point, I remember being pretty glad there was nothing in that hole which needed brooming.

Understanding the importance of high quality nutrition, a large gourment with pineapple, spinach and yellow peppers was secured from Ted over at Anthony's Gourmet Pizza Emporium.

If you plan to ever dig a really deep hole in the street, we highly recommend you order this particular style pizza. My homeboys said it really hit the spot.

So, after lunch we piled up some more dirt on the street. I started going door-to-door in the neighborhood to apologize for all the manly noise I was making. Unfortunately, this was done during the week so most of my neighbors were away at work.

The guys worked that hole like some real pros that day. They operated like dirt surgeons with a terrific attitude. If you ever hear of anyone needing a deep hole dug, keep these guys in mind.

Nothing feels quite so good as to look down on a newly inserted hunk of 4" PVC. Not only did we confirm we didn't have any orangeberg, but the rest of the pipe looked to be in excellent shape.

Later in the day, I felt sadness as we began to shove fresh dirt back into the deep hole.

I knew it couldn't last forever.

Some people may see this a terribly expensive messy ordeal -- but I think it was huge fun. I don't expect you to understand this. It's one of those things you have to experience. Looking back on it, I gotta say, the memories are priceless.

Me and my homies kicked some dirt butt that day. Whenever I see that patch out there I get a lump in my throat. I used to call my buddies all the time to ask if they wanted to get together to talk about the old days -- but they never call back. I think there must be something wrong with their answering machine.