In The News

Feeling more myself yesterday and today. Probably due to all the antioxidants and vitamins in the kale I’ve been eating.

As much as I love kale, no matter how many others hate it ─ to keep the rise in energy going, I’m even adding sprigs to the turkey chili cooking in the instant pot. However, I'm drawing the line at a recipe I ran across this morning ─ kale cake with blueberry frosting ... but only because it contains flour and apples, which would set off a gut episode. LOL.

I imagine that, by now, you’ve either read or heard about the 19-year old, on Tik Toc, who chronicles how she “mistakenly” moved into a senior living facility.

From what I’m reading, none of the age 65 and over residents seem to mind the girl, Madi Ann, living there; and Madi Ann feels like she’s hit the jackpot, in that her rent is only $350 a month (it’s Arkansas), neighbors have been feting her with homemade meals, and she can play her music as loud as she wants because, as Madi Ann puts it, “Most of my neighbors can’t hear”.

I’m trying to figure out how “mistakenly” happened and wondering, from what I’ve seen around here lately, if we’re going in that direction ─ no “mistakenly” about it.

Madi Ann says she never saw the place, as the rental was handled online, but there must have been someone on the other end ─ someone screening the applicant and application, approving the lease.

I just find the whole “mistakenly” interesting.

There was no mistake about it when my now downstairs neighbor, Illusive Unfriendly, moved in back in 2017 ─ after the unit became vacant when my then downstairs neighbor, Gina, relocated to a new senior complex in Fontana.

It was obvious Illusive Unfriendly was nowhere near the qualified age of 55 and over, which prompted some residents (not me, because I didn’t care) to question management as to whether this was still a senior community.

Management’s reply was a whole lot of double talk ─ yes to 55 and over HOWEVER ... and here the double talk lost me and I couldn’t tell you how management rationalized it except, “under certain circumstances” age 49 is allowed.

"Certain circumstances" were never explained, but I speculated that a new complex in Fontana had syphoned off seniors who’d been languishing on the waiting list, and some already unhappily living here ... like Gina. Having run out of seniors, and units to be filled, I speculated management solved its problem by relaxing the age limit.

Gina was good with all us neighbors, but didn’t like management. Management returned the feeling, with maintenance once telling Gina “You complain too much”. LOL

At any rate, Illusive Unfriendly has not been a great addition to the quad and, unlike Madi Ann, Illusive Unfriendly wasn’t feted with any homemade meals from us ─ her choice, because she wanted nothing to do with us. Wouldn’t speak to any of us, wouldn’t even look us in the eye, rebuffing my attempt at introducing myself/welcoming her to the quad by yelling “I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE!”, then constantly complaining to management that I was disturbing her peace, waking her up at 3:30 a.m. with my bouncing a ball ─ which turned about to be the laundry room washer/dryer being used at an ungodly hour.

So not a good addition. Though lately, Illusive Unfriendly seems a little better ─ since hooking up with Big Friendly Guy, to the point where she actually said “Hello” to me as we passed in the quad last month.

And yes ... it’s been noted that she says “I don’t like people”, but she appears to not include men as people, because she doesn’t have a problem with them going in/out her unit ─ appearing now to be exclusive with Big Friendly Guy.

Whatever.

Lately, I’m seeing what looks to be more “certain circumstances” on the complex ─ residents who do not look to meet the age requirement, including the cute but short guy I saw at the mail center the other day.

Oddly enough, I not too long ago received an email from the new Day Creek Senior Villas, in Rancho Cucamonga ─ the community I had looked into, but was unable to accept a unit because I’m over income for that complex. The email said that all 140 units have been filled.

That 140 must have syphoned off our waiting list, leaving management, once again, with no available seniors to fill units recently vacated due to residents dying, residents moving, evictions.

It's a pattern ... a new complex syphons seniors off the waiting list, management relaxes the age limit.

It’s turned out so well for Madi Ann that she’s encouraging “If you're struggling with rent, start your early retirement”, i.e., move into a senior community.

I waited my turn to age into an affordable situation, so I don’t know about others jumping the line because they're struggling or because management needs to fill a vacant unit.

Accountability

Still tired, planning to stay in all day but craving kale, I dragged myself to the market.

While in the checkout lane, I overheard a conversation between the customer checking out and the cashier.

The two women appeared to know each other well ... well enough for the cashier to engage the customer in talking about each other’s family, after which the cashier asked “Did you get vaccinated yet?”

Customer replied, “No. I don’t believe in that. Besides, the people who got vaccinated are still getting sick”

The cashier indicated she was in agreement.

I myself am STILL waiting for more data on the long-term effects, but the fact the Johnson and Johnson vaccine has once again been given the green light ─ despite the risk of blood clots, isn’t filling me with confidence. The whole thing is beginning to feel more and more like a money grab. What comedienne Chris Rock was alluding to when he said, “Ain't no money in the cure, the money's in the medicine”.

Doesn’t mean I’m against it. Just means I’ll keep waiting, watching.

Returning from the market, I detoured by the mail box.

Two residents were already in the cage.

Seeing them, I squeezed into a corner outside the cage, and waited for them to exit.

One was a new to me guy, Black, kinda cute. Short, but cute.

We greeted each other and he moved on.

While waiting for the other resident to exit, I looked over and, off in the distance, saw what looked to be a cat caught in that trap.

Before I could relocate myself to a safe distance away from where the other resident would exit, for a closer look, the other resident ─ an older female, also new to me, came out saying that, inasmuch as her mailbox is in the area that had been vandalized a few weeks ago, and the vandalized area has not yet been repaired, “I guess I have to go to the post office to get my mail”.

It’s taking management a long time to get this fixed ─ no surprise there. I’m very lucky, my box is on the opposite side of the cage ... untouched.

At any rate, as the resident walked away, leaving the whole area to myself, I moved to where I could get a closer look at the cat trap.

Sure enough, it's a cat.

It seemed to be looking straight at me, sad eyes pleading for help I could not give, but with me hoping management realized sooner rather than later that she/he is in the trap and get on with whatever it is they’re going to do, so she/he won’t suffer long in such a confined space.

It made me think about what would happen on the weekend, if a cat is caught.

We have management on the premises, but they are uncaring, uninvolved, and have no problem telling residents, “I’m off the clock”, when approached with a situation after 4:00.

If, in their weekend comings and goings, they saw a cat in a trap, they’d keep on stepping.

So, asking myself what I’d do if I saw a cat in the trap on the weekend or after hours, I decided I’d not waste my time with management, I’d get ‘em in trouble by calling the SPCA.

With that in mind ... knowing management was off the clock at 4:00 today, I went down at 5:00 ─ right after Judge Judy, to make sure the cat had not been left to suffer all night.

Would you believe the cat was STILL in the trap.

That’s unconscionable!

I should have gone immediately back to my unit and called the SPCA but, seeing the light still on in Community Manager’s office, I knocked on the outer door.

I saw him get up and turn off the light.

ROFLMAO!

I’m not so easily dismissed.

I knew where he parked his car.

So, holding him accountable for what I perceived as cruelty to an animal, I walked around to the front, positioned myself to where I could see him exit the door and, as he headed for his car, I yelled out, “Hey, J___. There’s a cat in the cat trap!”

“It’s okay, there’s food and water in it”, said he.

“That cat has been there since 11:00. Are you saying you’re just going to leave it out there to suffer overnight?”

Had he replied, “yes”, I most definitely would have called the SPCA.

Lucky for him, he said, “I didn’t know that. I’ll take it inside. It’ll still be in the cage, but inside the office.”

I watched as he turned around, unlocked the front door, reentered. Then I went back to where the cat was and waited ─ just to make sure he did what he said he was going to do.

I tried to take video, but I screwed up and video didn’t capture.

He saw me videotaping him, but doesn’t know it didn’t capture, which might work to my advantage and scare him into making sure traps are checked before staff leaves for the day from now on.

At any rate, as he unlocked the pool area, entered and picked up the cage, the cat began to struggle against the trap.

“Oh, he’s a mean one”, said Community Manager.

“He’s only mean because he’s been in there so long”, said I and asked, “What do you do with the cats after you capture them?”

“We take them to the animal shelter”.

“You physically drive them to the shelter?"

“Yes”, said he.

I don’t believe him. They probably just drop them off in another location.

At any rate, I’m not entirely happy with that cat still being in the trap overnight, and for many more hours tomorrow until staff returns and get around to doing whatever it is they do, but it is what it is.

A few days ago, I overheard two residents discussing the cat referred to as Mama, wondering where she was.

I guess management got her ... she’s been caught.

Management is putting all this effort in ridding the complex of cats no one seemed to mind being here. Too bad management didn’t put this much effort into catching whoever it was breaking into mail boxes.

As for that kale ... I may not be an accomplished cook, but I excel at kale salad.

Gloomy Days and Mondays

Woke up in a blue funk this morning ─ tired and in no way ready to seize the day.

Not sure exactly why ... except maybe too much of the Law and Order Binge-A-Thon (all 20 seasons of the original), which has been causing way too many dreams since I got into the binge-a-thon days ago, including last night when the dream was like a film vignette ─ different people, in different situations ─ people I did not know, situations I now can’t recall but which left me waking up feeling exhausted, rather than rested.

So, instead of the Oscars last night, I was into the Goren years of Law and Order, because I can’t handle all those Oscar speeches, nor am I interested in who wins what. I do enjoy the fashion, but I can always catch that online ─ without the aggravation of speeches, pomp and ceremony.

So waking up tired and not ready for another day of life this cold dreary Monday morning, I made coffee and logged on to see what Billy Porter had worn to the Oscars ... only he wasn’t in attendance.

There was much ado about Laura Derns Oscar de la Renta dress being a total miss, but I loved it, thought it clean, elegant.

The dress is being unfairly compared to the disastrous looking swan dress worn by Björk back in 2001.

Unfairly because ... well look ...

One is a costume, the other is art.

At any rate, I think Laura and De La Renta are getting a bad rap.

After logging off the puter, performing the usual morning rituals, I dragged my tired self to the Pain Cave, thinking the workout would lift me ─ produce much needed endorphins.

I open the door and ..... BAM! ... straight ahead, just as I entered the door.

Do you see it?

Here's a closer look.

It’s the treadmill.

Formerly perfectly placed in the room facing the picture window, it is now located in the front room, smack dab across from the studio’s entrance.

My view now is the boxing ring and the room where the treadmill had been located ─ which is now were the boxing bags have been strung up.

My back is to a wall, my side is to a wall ─ amazingly, the feng shui of it hits the corner (relationship) and wall (family) of this room, same as when located in the other room.

My side view is the front door.

Too tired to care, I asked how the wife felt about this change. Trainer said she just shook her head and said “Whatever”.

I liked the other room, other position better but, inasmuch as I'm not facing a wall, I can live with it. Besides, it's not like I have a choice.

So whatever.

As for those much needed endorphins ... I survived this morning’s workout, but came away feeling no more energetic than when I awoke.

Nothing

Other than my normal schedule of workouts, needlepoint, trying to catch up on recorded television programs, I’ve got nothing other than sitting on my couch perch watching maintenance guys getting Sue’s (whose lifestyle took such a toll that she became unable to care for self and was moved in with family) across the quad, upstairs corner unit ready for the next tenant, and landscapers uprooting ALL the plants on the property.

I also squeezed in time to watch a movie I’d been anxious to see ever since I’d first heard about it months ago.

Of course, I don’t go to the movies and though I have a smart tv and can load a streaming service, the mechanics of switching from TV to all the other options the smart tv offers is too confusing for me, so I patiently waited for the DVD to release.

It’s up for Best Picture and Best Screenplay.

I don’t know about either, but I enjoyed it and particularly enjoyed that, instead of the usual spoiling of a movie for myself by knowing what was going to happen before it happened, this one was full of unanticipated surprises.

The main character’s skittle nails motivated me to go back to what was last year’s style.

Promising Young Woman

Retired Senior Citizen

Sue’s family must have left a terrible mess inside, when they moved Sue out, because the guys brought in a dumpster and spent two days loading it with miscellaneous junk.

Good luck getting a cleaning deposit back.

As for the landscapers, here we are, same week as Earth Day, and first they pruned the trees to death, then came back and stripped the entire complex of, what looked to me, to be healthy striving plants, leaving a few hedges and patches of dirt.

I’m assuming management has a plan, a before and after. Can’t wait to see the after, because the before was already lush and pleasant looking.

Oh, and by the way, the news reported at least six people fatally shot by officers (with varying circumstances) in the 24 hours after jurors reached a verdict in the murder case against Chauvin.

Just sayin’

The Reckoning

Finally, at long last, accountability has come to that thick, albeit thin blue line.

It’s difficult to be happy about this verdict, because the whole thing is just so sad, was so cruel, so unnecessary. What I am is relieved that a murder by cop, as egregious as this one, didn’t turn out to be yet another miscarriage of justice.

Will this verdict bring protect, serve, respect in law enforcement dealings with the Black community, rather than the usual intimidate and murder that’s been going on for as long as I’ve been on this earth?

One has only to look at the atrocities that have been going on, while the trial was in progress, to know the answer to that … it’s been Cop 101, business as usual.

This verdict brings about relief but, for me, hope of change died a long time ago.

Pruned to Death

From my perch on the couch, I yesterday noticed a king bed through the window across the way.

It appears there’s a new tenant in the evicted Cat Lady’s unit.

I hope it’s not the person I saw when I stepped outside of my unit yesterday ─ the only time I planned to be outside over the weekend, to take trash to the dumpster, because I don’t like him already.

This person ─ some little man, stepped out of a car's passenger side and began walking down the quad ─ towards me, with his mask less self.

I was pretty much trapped that he was going to pass way too close to my side, so I cut across a dirt path, through a patch of shrubbery, to avoid him.

That one trip outside, was fraught with danger because, stepping away from the dumpster, deciding to check mail, I see a slow moving senior coming down the walkway.

I waited until he passed and, since he was in my way to the mailbox, I took a circuitous route.

Lo and behold, when I got within eye shot of the mail center, I see him coming up from a side path.

I stopped way way back and waited, and waited, and waited.

While waiting, I see two cats.

So, management has yet to catch them all. I think they caught the cat residents call Mama, or someone is sheltering her, because I’ve not seen her since the day I last posted about her.

At any rate, one of the cats heads to a shady spot under the chairs by the pools, near the cat trap. I then feel something furry around my ankles, heard mewing, look down and see the other cat snaking through and around my legs.

I felt bad having to gently say, out loud, ”Sorry. I’ve got nothing for you”.

Still snaking and mewing, I had to stomp my foot a little to get him/her to leave me alone, at which point he/she moved onto a dirt path and dejectedly lay on it’s side ─ which made me feel even worse.

The cats obviously are missing Cat Lady. With her no longer here to leave food out, this cat was obviously looking for another benefactor.

Finally, the slow moving senior gets his mail and then holds the gate open, motions for me to come on.

Seriously dude?

Why do you think I’m standing like a mile away from you?

I signal no thanks, he starts walking away but, with the option to take the path he came up on to his left or take the path to his right, he chose to walk straight ahead, right past where I was standing ... trapped.

G%$D@#^IT!!!!!!!

There’s just no escape from people.

On Friday, I’d heard buzz saws going, indicating a tree crew was on the property. Heading back to the unit from that death trip to the mailbox yesterday, I got a good look at the tree trimming crew’s handiwork.

The tree that’s part of the view from my perch on the couch appears to have been pruned to death. It now looks like Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree.

I’m expecting it to keel over and die, but time will tell.

Once safely back inside, with a package I’d picked up from the mailbox, I sprayed my ankles with Lycol and checked for flees ─ because snaked by a feral cat ... just in case.

What was in the package you ask?

Well, it’s a new sweatshirt I’d ordered.

Also on Friday, Activity Director dropped off another craft kit ... an Easter craft kit.

Better late than never, I guess.

I’ve not yet gotten around to the St. Patty Day kit, probably never will as it doesn’t seem worth the time.

The Easter kit looks a bit more interesting, so maybe I’ll get around to it.

If At First You Don't Succeed

So, after the last mailroom break-in, management solved the problem of the dime-store handle, which was so easily hacked last weekend, by installing what looks like a duplicate dime-store handle.

Only this time, they’ve put up some sort of iron barrier behind it.

Inside View

I can’t even speculate as to how this is to prevent entry, once the outer door handle is hacked again ─ maybe the perp can't reach in or stick something in to manipulate the unlocking mechanism, but time will tell.

Speaking of firsts ... back in December, going through books stored in the outdoor storage area, I found a book I’d had for more years than I could remember. Realizing that, though I’d had it for years, I’d not read it ─ for whatever reason, I removed the book from storage and put it on the nightstand in the I’ll get around to it pile.

I finished Walter Mosley’s Blood Grove the other night (which, by the way was such a wild ride that, when I got to the end ... feeling exhausted because I felt like I was going through the experiences with him, I closed the book, took a deep breath and heard myself say to myself “That was stressful”), but well worth the read.

Last night I got started on the book I’d pulled out of storage.

How long have I had that book you ask?

Looking at the publication date of 1995, I've held onto the book for years.

It appears to be a First Edition, purchase price, back in the day, of $10.95.

Thinking it might be another found treasure, like the autographed copy of Louise Huebner I’d held onto, I did a little research and found used editions now going in the range of $60 to $120, which is meh.

This book isn’t autographed. One of my Walter Mosley books is autographed, but I’ve never had an opportunity to meet Ru.

Twin 1 did ... met Ru that is, back in June of 2019, when Twin 1 had an appearance on the set of Good Day LA to discuss her work with the homeless on Skid Row.

I’m thinking, an autograph might bump the book up a hundred or so. However, there was one seller offering a “collectible” for $4,748!

I’m not exactly sure what a “collectible” is, but good luck with that because ─ even with an autograph, that’s excessive for a used paperback with black and white photos.

One Happy Buddha

Do you recognize this Buddha?

It’s the one that graced the corner of partner’s roll top desk at the Pain Cave ─ minus the ying yang cups that is. The cups are a long time possession of mine.

As to how I came into possession of that happy Buddha, Trainer and partner parted ways last Friday. 

It was amicable.

After a year of wrangling over price, partner decided to move his family back to the Philippines ─ where his other business interests are, and sold his share of the business to Trainer.

Partner abandoned the desk, which Trainer is keeping, and the Buddha, which I offered to buy but Trainer said “No. You can have it”.

Trainer also let me have the lucky numbers from the desk, and these guys ─ which Trainer no longer wanted to see on the walls.

They’re Thai wooden hand-carved musicians, which might be what Dawn calls “found treasure” because of the jewels.

My luck has been pretty good, so I won’t need to hang the numbers. I’ll just store them, and the musicians, in the outdoor storage area until I’m led as to what to do with them.

Heading out to run errands this morning, I left Head Maintenance Guy (HMG) inside my unit alone, tending to the smoke detector. And, yes, the detector decided today was the day to work my nerves and start acting up again.

At any rate, HMG being otherwise occupied upstairs, it gave me an opportunity to talk to Assistant Maintenance Guy (AMG) ─ standing downstairs in the quad, about his experience in having tested positive Covid 19.

Seeing him up close, he looked like bloody hell ─ tired, skin grayish in color, shoulders slumped.

“How are you?” asked I.

He said he was excessively tired, couldn’t walk far without stopping, can now barely make it up the stairs in the complex without holding onto railing.

He has a cough he says he can’t get rid of and, while going through it, he not only could not breathe, he could not eat. Lost 20 pound in two weeks.

And even though he couldn’t eat, he had been plagued with excessive diarrhea during the time he was under medical care ─ where he says, “They gave me everything they could think of”.

”Glad you’re still alive”, said I and asked if he’d been vaccinated before the prognosis.

He had not, but plans to get vaccinated when his wait period ends in something like 30 days.

Evidentially, after testing positive, being hospitalized, recovering, there are x number of days before one can get vaccinated.

As to how he caught Covid, AMG made no mention of HMG having contracted it first, possibly passing it around. He thinks he contracted it at Sam’s Club.

Asking if I’ve been vaccinated, I replied, “No. I’m waiting to see the long-term side effects”.

AMG did not judge me, as Big Friendly Guy and Handsome Man did when they said they’d both been vaccinated, asked if I had and were visibly appalled when I’d said “No. I’m waiting to see the long-term side effects”.

All of a sudden, Handsome Guy took the position of talking down to me, like I was a child ... “It’s like any other shot. You’ve had shots before haven’t you?”

"Sure, but all I'm hearing are short-term effects. I want to know what the long-term effects might be."

Big Friendly Guy actually got mad, a little loud and challenged me with “And just what are the short-term effects?”

“I’ve heard, you get a sore arm and a little tired”, said I.

”Exactly!” said Big Friendly Guy and turned his head away from me, signifying that’s all there is to say.

On no he didn’t, said I to myself, getting hot under the collar that as old as I am, older than either of them, and probably wiser, that they’d attack me over something that was none of their business in the first place ─ my body, my choice. So, I reiterated ─ punctuating my words in a short staccato manner, through clenched teeth, “Those are the short-term effects. I’m waiting to see the long-term effects. I’ll keep wearing a mask, social distance, I’ll be fine."

They got the message, backed off, and I went on my way. LOL.

Big Friendly Guy appears to have gotten over the confrontation because, seeing him in the Laundry Room this past Sunday, he was off his judgmental soap box and back on terra firma.

So, I don’t know about playing it smart, as AMG calls it. It’s a choice I’m making to be cautious ... waiting ... watching, willing to accept the consequences of my action or inaction, saying to AMG, “I’m 77 years old. If waiting is a mistake and I end up dying, I’ve lived long enough.”

Looking at the news this morning, it appears my being cautions ... waiting ... watching has already paid off.

I actually remember scoffing when J&J came out with a vaccine. Isn’t that the group that caused cancer in women with its talc powder ... allegedly, thought I at the time. Who’s gonna trust their vaccine?

Evidently, a lot of folks trusted ‘em. And now we’re hearing about blood clots, with one death.

Would that person still be alive if they'd taken their chances and waited? 

I dunno, but something to think about.

Returning to the complex after those errands, I saw the old smoke detector has been replaced with a newer version. There was also an email from Complex Manager that, if the problem persists, they’ll call in an electrician.

Problem detector replaced, an electrician if problem persists ... I can only attribute this to my having threatened to do what I learned a few weeks back from The Talker ─ I threatened to call the Fire Department, have them come look at what I felt was a defective detector. LOL.

Lessons Not Learned

Another quiet weekend around here, that is ..... if you don’t count when I took a stroll down to the mail center yesterday to pick up mail delivered the previous day and saw this ....

It’s difficult to see through the security gate, but the left side has been torn down, mail boxes looted.

Looking for stimulus checks, I imagine.

I’d blogged, back in early March, about installation of the security gate and door, accessed by use of our common area key. I’d commented that we should be okay insofar as break-ins “for a while”. Emphasis on “for a while” because, looking at the dime store key handle, it didn’t look like much of a challenge for a seasoned criminal to pop, unscrew or pry loose.

It appears that’s exactly how entry was made.

Then

Now

When will this management group learn you get what you pay for ─ all that iron gate and a cheap key handle.

Returning from the Pain Cave this morning, "closed" sign removed from the security gate, I was able to get a better photo of inside.

Looks like management has been able to re-secure the bottom row of boxes.

The security people, who drive around the property once a night, don’t get out of the car. They just do a loop around the property, take off and their agency gets paid.

In the upper right hand corner of the photo is a camera. Doesn’t seem to be serving a purpose insofar as identifying the culprit(s).

With management personnel living right above the mail center ─ seeming not to hear the banging and clanging of boxes being broken into, management might consider a ring camera type set up, attached to the staffers, so they can't continue to ignore.

So there’s that.

And speaking of lessons not learned, there’s this ...

With the climate being what it’s been since George Floyd was murdered by Chauvin & Company, you’d think this Virginia Cop Joe Gutierrez would know better than to harass, intimidate, pepper spray, a Black man, let alone an Army Lieutenant for no reason whatsoever. Gutierrez went so far as to threatened to have Lieutenant Nazario's commission taken away if he lodged a complaint.

In the video, Gutierrez appears to be looking for an excuse to kill Lieutenant Nazario.

The Lieutenant was smart to have driven to a lighted area and kept his hands raised, even though Gutierrez ordered him to unbuckle his seat belt because, had he lowered his hands to do so, Gutierrez would have used that movement as an excuse to shoot. Like what was done a few years back to Philando Castile.

Philando was just a passenger, disclosed he had a license to carry and, when he reached for license and registration ─ as requested even though he wasn't driving and shouldn't have been asked, the cops murdered him.

As for threatening the Lieutenant's commission, now that the world knows this happened and the Lieutenant is suing, I hope he takes Gutierrez' pension, house, car ... everything.

Since the cops can't seem to manage their hatred, maybe they'd think twice if they were made to realize how much they have to lose if they don't keep their hatred in check.

Consequences should be part of their training.

I don’t even know what to say about the latest ─ the kid murdered for having a car freshener in his rear window.

Not sure this was even a real thing, I googled “is it illegal to hang air freshener in car”. Evidently, it is in California ... “You cannot hang items, or objects, from your rear-view mirror because it could possibly obstruct your view”.

I don’t recall reading that in the DMV book or seeing it on a test, but I bet it will be covered in the next edition.

At any rate, a further example of lessons not learned ─ the cop that chose to shoot even though the atmosphere is what it is.

Big Reveal Part 2

At Wednesday’s session, Trainer said his wife had visited the studio, took one look at the position of the treadmill and said “NO”.

Nothing else, just “NO”.

As a consequence of his wife’s resounding NO, I walked into the Cave this morning and found ......

Treadmill is now on the opposite side of the room, facing the picture window, open areas well within sight.

Perfect placement and, oddly enough, telling the story of my life — as it is now, because the placement has my back to the feng shui Relationships corner, back to Family wall.

My problem solved, Trainer’s problem solved as he can still fold it up out of the way, and Trouble with his wife avoided — had he ignored her opinion.

Exiting the kitchen yesterday, headed for my perch on the couch by the patio window, I grabbed the cell phone and took a photo of what I saw across the way.

It’s Assistant Maintenance Guy! He’s back, and appeared to be measuring the window for screens.

Glad he survived his diagnosis.

He’s friendly and chatty when Head Maintenance Guy isn’t around. So, I’ll have to catch him during such a moment, tell him it’s good to see him back, ask how he feels now and find out how it was when he was going through having tested Covid positive.

It’s looking like I’m going to have to spoil my view of outside, keep the blinds closed, or only partially open, now that the ugly curtains are gone and there’s a wide open view to inside my unit from across the quad.

I almost got caught fully nude one morning.

It was back in 2013, when corporate took over the complex and was having the building painted.

There were a few days when the windows had been covered with tarp, taped in place, leaving me foot loose and fancy free inside, insofar as walking around not fully clothed, while blinds were open to allow some little sunlight to seep into the unit through the tarp. On one such morning I was on the computer, not semi but completely nude while waiting for bath water to run.

All of a sudden, I saw an edge of the window cover being ripped away.

I didn’t know I could move as fast as I did, when I jumped up, crouched down and fled into the back room.

Painting completed, a worker had climbed a ladder, gotten onto the patio, and was stripping away the window coverings.

Don't think the worker was faster than I, caught a glimpse of anything. But, if he did, all he would have seen was a brown flash.

With office staff now all present and accounted for, having lived through and around Covid, the governor declaring California open again, things might get back to somewhat of a new normal around here ─ with maybe outdoor events.

I’m just looking forward to when I can safely walk the University’s campus again, and for in-person 5Ks to restart.

Cat People

Returning from the Cave yesterday, I swung by the mailbox and, as I passed the pool, I spotted something odd.

Turns out it’s a cage .... cat trap.

Some time ago, management posted notices to our doors indicating they were going to trap the stray cats roaming the property and turn them over to Animal Control.

First, they got rid of Cat Lady (rightly so, she was a menace). Now they’re after her cats, but I don’t believe for one second management will do something humane, like turn the cats over to Animal Control.

The joke’s on them, because there’s more than just that one Cat Lady here on the complex.

One, a friendly old lady who exercises daily by walking around and around and around the property with her walker, is like a pied piper ─ cats follow wherever she goes.

The other, who I think hit the blog once before as Little Linda, is a stone cold beoch ─ not very old, and a drinking buddy of the neighbor I recently blogged about being moved in with family because drinking got the best of her and she could no longer care for herself.

Little Linda is decidedly NOT friendly to people, but falls under the category of cat lady.

There’s probably plenty more cat ladies around here, but these are the only two ─ other than the original cat lady, that I'm aware of.

At any rate, figuring management’s plan to trap the strays wasn’t going to sit well with any of the cat people, I pictured that trap, and others I've not yet spotted around the property, being destroyed.

Surprise, surprise ... management was expecting the same because, on the notice was a caveat that, “Anyone seen tapering with these traps or seen trying to free any captured cats will be receive a lease violation up to termination of their lease.”

I wonder if the other cat ladies can use typos in that caveat as an excuse, if caught tampering with the cages ─ that they didn’t know they were doing anything wrong because they didn’t understand what “tapering” meant. LOL.

While I was photographing this cat trap, along comes a cat.

I began, in my mind, screaming at it to “DON’T GO IN THERE. IT’S A TRAP!”

Must have heard me because fortunately it didn’t.

Instead, the cat went under the chairs to take a nap in the shade.

Hopefully, the cat didn’t later ─ seeking water and food, get herself trapped.

How do I know it’s a herself, not a himself?

That’s because, the cat being a long-time fixture around the place, if she’s not seen for a while, I’ve encountered cat people out looking for her, asking if I've seen the “mama” cat.

The strays aren’t hurting anyone. They help to keep the lizard population down. So, I don’t know why the big deal about getting rid of them.

Residents wishing to save them may have to Anne Frank 'em ─ hide cats in their units until management gives up and gets rid of the traps.