Home Sweet Home

The drive up on Friday took 4 hours, with the GPS warning of traffic jams, and recalculating numerous times around accidents. The drive back this morning only took 1 hour 15 minutes and I arrived back at the complex with a sore throat and ear infection.

Expecting the Long Beach/San Pedro area to be sunny, bright, hot, I packed a pair of shorts, a tank top and sun hat to wear to the Rooftop BBQ. Expecting also to spend time in the salt water pool, I packed a bathing suit. Had the event been from 11 a.m. to 4:00, that would have worked. But the event was scheduled from 4:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m., by which time the area was so cool and breezy that I decided to wear the leggings and tank top I’d driven up in and took along a long-sleeve top I’d fortunately tossed in the luggage at the last-minute.

Arriving shortly after 4:00, wasn’t long before I had to slip on that long sleeve top ... and it wasn’t enough. I should have packed gloves, jacket, my heavy knitted infinity scarf because it got so chilly up on that roof that, when I slipped out early at 8:00, others were wrapping themselves in blankets, which I declined because I could feel the beginning of an ear and throat problem and was ready to go.

Everyone had so much fun catching up that there’s talk about it being an annual event. If so, next time I’ll know to cover my bases and prepare for every conceivable kind of weather.

At any rate, before it got cold, the weekend was fun and exciting. Arriving at the hotel on Friday, I spotted an event going on a block away. After checking in, I walked over and found a Hawaiian Shindig.

That’s what I enjoyed about the time I did live in Long Beach ─ the fact that every time I walked out the door, I’d walk up on an event. There’s always something fun going on. What I didn’t enjoy were the constant rent increases to where the newer buildings are now beyond reach, and the old run-down icky inside weather-worn buildings are now barely affordable, with constant rent increases as well.

I guess it’s all about location, location, location.

The force was with me on Saturday, because I landed a spot right in front of the rooftop building. And, while stopped at the light just before turning into that location, I managed to capture a photo of what looks to be one of the battleships folks were touring at Fleetweek.

Arriving at the rooftop, I managed to capture more of the Fleetweek goings on, including snipers posted on a patio of the building I was in, and around the corner from where we were on the roof.

Exciting stuff that. Even more exciting is that one of the guys hosting the event was stopped and questioned by NCIS, when he went to tour one of the ships.

He didn’t think it exciting. He was offended and complained.

Later in the evening, we could hear the music and see the Beach Boys on stage, by which time I was too cold to care.

Here are a few shots of former coworker friends, some of whom I've not seen in person since 2002, and the fabulous food I couldn't eat.

And here I am feeling cold, changing into long sleeves

The Boys

The Girls

The seniors are planning a Labor Day BBQ. Won’t compare with the Rooftop BBQ, but I hope to feel well enough to check in.

The Universe has Spoken

In a last-ditch effort to manufacture a good excuse for not getting out and hanging with my old younger friends this coming weekend, I contacted the doctor’s office to see if I could get an appointment today, tomorrow or Friday.

It’s amazing what lengths I will go to at times to get out of a commitment to socialize with other humans ─ even humans I sincerely like.

At any rate, the doctor can’t see me until the end of September ─ It’s a good thing it’s nothing serious, just something I should have discussed with her months ago but thought to do now to get out of that commitment. 

With my belief that we are just bit players on the stage of life, that the Universe is directing and makes its wishes known, I took that "not until the end of September" as a further sign the Universe wants me in the Long Beach/San Pedro area this weekend, the other signs being it is now too late to cancel the hotel without considerable monetary penalties, and the fact I was tempted to simply just call and rescind my rsvp yes to a no, but couldn’t bring myself to do so.

So, having resigned myself to the road trip, I wasn’t in the mood to check on the folks at yesterday’s Pizza Tuesday. Instead, the weather was nice (for a change) so I drove to an area known for its many PokéStops, parked and walked around hunting for Pokémon and Gifts.

Found a few gifts, but still not enough to satisfy what I need to feed my game friends on a regular basis.

This addition of gifts is a pain in the butt and I’m hoping it doesn’t last.

Returning to the complex in a much better frame of mind than when I left, I took a shortcut to the mail center, through the office area and ran into a group of seniors gathered in the entryway, almost blocking the door.

Being the cautious person I am, I cracked the door and asked if it was safe to enter.

They thought that funny, saying nothing to worry about unless I saw them running, but you never know. Better safe than sorry.

What the huddle was about is that Assistant Community Manager is back at her desk, one senior saying she was out because her husband is ill again and, in fact, is back in the hospital. 

That’s possibly true because her husband, bless his heart, has been struggling with some unknown illness that he previously almost succumbed to, but the timing is suspicious as his relapse and her absence occurred the same time Community Manager was let go.

Someone else said Assistant Manager had been offered the Community Manager position but turned it down.

That also is possibly true and I can totally see her not wanting the top spot because it would put her in a position of responsibility where she’d have no buffer and would have to deal directly with Corporate, which dealing with Corporate can be likened to what those working in the White House must be experiencing – stress, fear, pins, needles.

At any rate, Assistant Manager is back in her office … for now, and word is we’ll have a new Community Manager within a month (the job opening is no longer listed on Corporate's career site). I’m hoping the new person is one former office worker in particular that quit because she couldn’t tolerate that mean Nurse Ratched. We liked her so much that we gave her a going-away surprise party, and a plaque for outstanding work and being so nice to us.

While I was standing with the other seniors, being filled in, Apache came along. He's still on the warpath, working with the County and Housing to have his list of demands resolved. I can’t tell you what all he wants, other than the pit bull off the property, but he had an 8-1/2 by 11 sheet of paper full of notes, the last note being “Why is it taking so long for Corporate to repair the mail boxes". And because my buddy Apache really loves to stir the pot, he’s going to let the County know Assistant Manager is back because, he says that when the County called Corporate, they said she was not coming back.

That guy really needs a distraction in his life.

I caught a glimpse of The Seer — Shadow of course was glued to her.

She looked happy, smiling for a change and acknowledged me ─ Shadow did not. He just stoically stood there while those around him were chatting it up.

What’s wrong with him?

Is it possible he’s one of those guys that don’t want their women socializing or talking to anyone but them?

Apache says The Seer is still holding a grudge and will not speak to him since that day in June, when she almost caused a fist fight between him and Shadow because, though she’s been friends with Apache for as many years as I have, she all of a sudden tells Shadow she doesn’t like Apache’s tone ─ whatever that means, and Shadow turned around and warned Apache to watch how he speaks to her, which pitted the two guys against each other and almost ended in fisticuffs.

I find it odd that The Seer, involved in the church and bible studies as she is, can be holding such a petty grudge. Apache is over it, and Shadow is over it, but not wanting to anger or come across as disloyal, Shadow will only acknowledge Apache when The Seer is not around.

So much BS going on with Corporate and individual seniors. It’ll be interesting to see what life is like at the GenX and Millennial level of living.

Yesterday ended with one final word from the Universe. A 4.4 earthquake that nearly knocked my laptop off my knees.

Weekend with Generation X and Millennials

I was looking forward to this coming weekend away from the old folks, hanging with a younger crowd, but now I’m not.

A kid I met on the job some 25 years ago, whom I’ve maintained a friendship with through my job changes and retirement, through his job changes and a relocation to Fargo North Dakota -- where he opened a restaurant, a bakery and ran a Farmers Market, is on the move again. This time, he’s back in California, living in a fancy high-rise in San Pedro, hosting a Fleet Week Roof Top BBQ, which rooftop has a view of activities associated with Fleet Week, including the sights and sounds of the Beach Boy Concert.

It appears, San Pedro has gone through a radical urban renewal because, when I was growing up in a nearby community, San Pedro was not the place to be because it was strictly a seaport and stomping ground for sailors on leave — full of bars and girls. Now it appears the area is fancy housing and activities for the Gen Xers and Millennials.

I first met Q back in 1993, when he came to the office from a temp agency to cover my desk while I was on vacation and, when hired back to do other tasks for the law firm, made a point of coming over to meet me saying he wanted to see who the person was that had made covering the desk so easy for him because I’d left a step-by-step manual of what duties I performed for each of my three attorneys.

Though he was in his mid-20’s, I in my 50’s at the time, we just clicked.

Q clicked with a lot of people. He’s just one of those humans who seem to be blessed beyond belief. He’s honest, decent, people instinctively like him, good things magically appear for him, every venture he touches turns to gold.

And so it was that, after coming to the firm as a temp to cover my desk, he became the most requested temp, eventually hired permanent, rose through the ranks and became my supervisor — with my full support because he became a buffer between myself and the difficult to deal with attorneys.

There were three of us subordinates under Q and he was the most fun I ever experienced in a job situation. There were weekend jaunts — like the time all four of us went to Catalina Island, karaoke parties after work, all kinds of fun parties and events until a merger came along a few years later and sent us our separate ways – he to another department in Los Angeles, me to San Diego.

Still, I’d make my way to L.A. to attend Q events, even once blew off my own family to spend Thanksgiving with him -- met some of his new friends, met his mom.

THEN, a further merger sent Q to San Diego to, believe it or not, the same floor I worked on, where it was on again – dinners and things, introducing Q to new coworker friends I’d met.

He charmed them all and made some lasting friendships, even though Q did not like San Diego, eventually quit and struck out successfully on his own, eventually landing in Fargo to open his own business, look after his ailing mom.

His mom passed away recently so, with no reason to live in frigid cold Fargo, Q sold his businesses and is now back in town, involved in another venture, and rounding up us former coworkers/now long-time friends from L.A. and San Diego.

How could I say no to the roof top gathering, especially when people were Facebook messaging they were looking forward to seeing me again, and the invite came with the offer that if the drive from the Inland Empire is too much, I could spend the night at Q’s place.

Q’s new apartment is only 7 miles from my favorite hotel, so I opted for that instead so I could kick about on my own.

At least that was the plan until, after saying I’d be there, I learned the event doesn’t start until 4:00 in the evening, ending 11:00 that night.

I guess that’s what the younger crowd does, but I’m more a start at 11:00 a.m. end at 4:00 p.m. age group, so these hours are going to be a challenge for me.

Then, I learned that parking is plentiful in the area, but is going to be a problem because of the Fleet Street goings on, not to mention I’m worried about my food restrictions.

I’ve been cooking and freezing meals to warm up in the Instant Pot, so hotel meals are covered. But Q’s rooftop menu has me worried — “BBQ Chicken, hamburgers, sausages (maybe some Galbi - Korean beef ribs), veggies and there will be a lot of other stuff. We will also have Smores to toast on the firepit!”

I can deal with the veggies, but only if there’s no season salt or anything other than olive oil on them, plus I can take my own special turkey burgers to add to the grill, but everything is getting so involved now that I’m feeling attending is becoming more trouble than it’s worth.

My initial excitement at getting up close and personal with old younger friends is weaning. I’m seriously looking for a way out and soon, so I can cancel the hotel without a penalty.

Running on Empty

Just when my sleep pattern had returned to a more acceptable wake up time of 4:30, alert and raring to go, worry kept me awake all last night until around 5:00 this morning. I dozed off for a bit, but was awake and alert at 6:30, anxious to perform my morning ritual and head down to the mail room to check on that which kept me awake and worrying all night.

Though the mail carrier had indicated not to leave mail in the outgoing slot -- to give the mail directly to her because the mail thief tried to break into the outgoing, it wasn’t an easy request to comply with because delivery can be anywhere from 11:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m.

I don’t have much of an exciting life, but I do have better things to do than sit outside and wait for the mail truck to arrive.

I could have walked the correspondence to the UPS Store on the corner, but anxious to get the mail in the post and not able to leave my unit due to the announcement of yet another inspection between 8:00 and 5:00 (after we were told there would be no further inspections for three years), I took a chance and dropped the correspondence in the outgoing early Thursday morning, knowing the carrier would eventually arrive, take the outgoing, leaving nothing overnight and no reason for the mail thief to break into the outgoing slot.

Inasmuch as we have no Community Manager and no Assistant Manager, I was curious to see who was going to sphere head an inspection. My curiosity went unsatisfied, because no inspectors arrived, at least not on this end of the complex.

Total waste of a day when I had things to do in preparation for spending the Labor Day Weekend in Long Beach and the weekend after that at a meditation retreat.

At any rate, late Thursday evening, I went down to the mail room to pick up that day’s mail and double-check the outgoing had been picked up. Peeping into the outgoing slot, I saw the envelope I’d dropped off early that morning was still sitting right on top, just signaling the mail thief something important was there for the taking.

I’m the go-with-the-flow type, not the worrying kind but, all of a sudden, I tapped into worry, thinking that if the mail thief broke in overnight, I’d have to put a hold on what was in that envelope. But then, just in case the mail thief was sophisticated and “washed” the contents, changed the amount, he could clean my account out, so maybe it would be better to close the account altogether.

So many scenarios ran through my head as I stayed awake all night (worrying while playing Candy Crush, worrying while playing AlphaBetty Saga, worrying while reading Omarosa’s book, worrying while studying the DMV handbook in preparation for license renewal), worrying and waiting for daylight so I could go down and see if the slot was further damaged, the envelope gone.

Thankfully, there was no further damage to the slot, the envelope was still there, but not wanting to chance another night of worry, I posted the following to the mailboxes, as I headed out to get started on errands.

While out and about, I noticed I was walking funny ... slow, sluggish, balance off, felt a little dizzy. Driving back to the complex I struggled to stay alert.

Probably wasn’t the smartest idea to get out and about, taking care of business as usual while running on empty – an hour and a half’s sleep.

At any rate, I made it safely home around 2:00 without hurting myself or anyone else, and immediately went to see if outgoing mail had been picked up.

Thankfully, it was. But I don’t think the mail carrier appreciated my note.

I’m taking this to mean yesterday’s outgoing had been picked up yesterday, today’s outgoing picked up today.

Yesterday's mail was not picked up, and .... why is it so hard for people to accept having made a mistake?

Worrying now over, errands run, I’m off to catch up on my sleep.