Veteran's Day

And We’re Back

After a week’s absence from Bingo Friday, because Red Light was travelling, this afternoon it was back to Bingo Friday.

I myself wouldn’t mind if bingo ended altogether, for no reason other than I’m more and more not wanting to go anywhere, do anything, just stay in my unit, enjoy my aloneness; but Bingo Friday is important to the Usual Suspects, because it’s all they have, other than the occasional bone tossed to them by Management and Activity Director.

As for me, unlike most of the Usual Suspects, I’ve got a kazillion other things I can and would rather be doing, and it’s no one’s fault but my own that I can’t just not go because I signed on as an integral part …… design and print the flyers, take photos, manage the residents’ website.

Not seeing a way to unsign, I’ll have to grin and bear it unless and until bingo ends.

The sessions are a good way to catch up on what’s going on, but my head is already so filled with things I don’t want to see, don’t want to hear, don’t want to know, that I’d really rather not see, hear or know anything further.

Consequently, just walking from my unit to the Community Room for this afternoon’s bingo felt like I was walking the Green Mile with the weight of the world on my shoulders.

I’m not kidding.

The closer I got to the room, the heavier I felt and, when I made it inside, I plopped down on the chair and let out a heavy sigh.

"You’re tired already?" commented my tablemate Buttons.

"I got tired on the way here", said I.

I wasn’t tired at this morning’s workout. I only got tired when I headed for someplace I didn’t want to be.

So, anyway, the topic this afternoon was what was going to happen to the curly haired kid whose grandpa just past away.

"They’re not going to let him stay here" someone said.

"He’s going to live with his grandma" said another.

That’s good to know that his grandma is still alive. Hopefully she stays alive long enough for him to find his way in the world — learn a trade, get a job, etc.

I also learned the battling OG’s have been evicted .

The OG’s being the couple — him 66, her 74, married for 37+ years, that moved out just before the Pandemic hit and we went into Quarantine; returned a year or so later saying they’d been through hell, insofar as living arrangements since moving out.

Their back story, if you wish to know why I refer to them as the "battling" OG’s, can be found here.

Very much liked individually and as a couple, they were welcomed back by management and residents with open arms. However, inasmuch as they did not move out of their own accord this time, were instead evicted, they won’t be allowed back. An eviction on one's record is like the kiss of death, not only here but when trying to get a place to live elsewhere. So, this is unfortunate.

Reason for the eviction being the husband got into gambling. Gambled the rent money away.

Speaking of rent, I got a little clarification on the $500 increase.

First off, it’s exactly $518 and raises the cost of units occupied by those on the county roll closer to the same the rest of us are paying.

I had no idea those units were previously going for close to half of what those of us not on the county roll are paying.

The questions hanging in the air are whether or not the county will approve the increase and what will happen if they do not approve it.

On another note, I had an ephinay about the Silver Fox, aka 😵👀👅📣. I think he and Next-Door Neighbor would be attracted to each other. Both have a boogie vibe about them and I have a sense that, should they see each other on the walkway or in the parking area, it would be on.

Score Card

Tis the season and, thus far, the score around here is two falls and one death in a short period of time.

The death was an old gentleman living with his 18-year-old grandson.

The two were a popular fixture on the complex. Never attended activities, but regularly seen out walking together.

The kid moved in with his grandpa two years ago, after his mom passed away, now his grandpa is gone, and he’ll have to find other accommodations.

One of two falls is a neighbor around the corner in this building. She just kind of slipped while out walking on the complex, her foot went wonky, and she’s laid up with a broken foot.

The other fall is that new resident — moved in three months ago, the guy the ladies were all going ga ga over.

Word on the grapevine was the guy, mixed with First Nation blood and some other blood type, resulted in his being a devastatingly handsome kinda guy but "He’s mean ….. antisocial …… doesn’t like people knocking on his door; And he doesn’t like women. Says he’s sick and tired of women always chasing him".

He slipped in a puddle on the property, fell backwards, landed on his side, cracked a rib and was laid up for a while.

Today, returning from this morning’s workout and a stop by the market, was the first time I’ve seen him up close and personal — other than briefly, one time before I heard the girls speak of him, when we'd passed on the walkway and I'd said, "Good morning". He'd scowled at me but did say "Good morning" in return.

I later understood the scowl face was because he'd come to expect women around here were thirsty and "Good morning" from a female, in his mind, translated into "Hubba Hubba Awooga".

He'd been burned, was guarded and didn’t want to open the door by appearing friendly.

Today he did.

Talker pulled up behind me just as I was getting out of the car, chatted me up for a bit, then went to park whereupon I thought to ask her if my Little Stalker had liked my Wednesday dance.

She didn’t exit the car right away, so there I was standing in the parking lot, arms full of workout gear and grocery bags, when this Silver Fox walked across the lot, stopped, looked at me, asked "Are you alright?"

That was nice.

"Yes, I’m just waiting to say something to my neighbor".

As he then moved towards his parked car, Talker exited her car, saw him and engaged him in conversation, asking how he was.

"Worst year of my life", said he. "I had Covid, Bronchitis, a growth on my chest blew up into a big deal and had to be drained, then I fell and was laid up for a while".

Standing close enough to listen as he and Talker finished their conversation, I did not introduce myself or ask for an introduction because, since he’s so leery of women coming onto him, I was being guarded in return.

After he walked away, I mentioned to Talker that he seems nothing like what I’ve heard from the other ladies.

She'd not heard what I'd been told, was surprised the others had labeled him as antisocial, tired of women chasing him.

"That’s because one of the girls, I won’t say who, was constantly knocking on his door", said she.

Ohhhh, the old sour grapes. He wasn’t interested in whoever that was, so she put antisocial yada yada yada out on the grapevine. Now everyone stays away from him.

Talker went on to say Silver Fox is in business — owns an ammunitions company.

"He’s an arms dealer", I joked, but sometimes words come out of my mouth that turn out to be accurate.

At any rate, having seen the infamous Silver Fox up close and personal, he seems nice enough to me, is handsome but not the drop dead ga ga the other ladies seem to think.

In fact, I don’t see First Nation at all. Instead, I see Louisiana Geechee, clearly Creole in his skin color, texture of his hair, mustache, beard and body type; but Covid, Bronchitis, a Growth on the chest that needed draining (a cyst?) and now a cracked rib is a lot.

He's like that Charles Schultz Peanuts character that has a cloud following him. Possibly, some woman he left behind in Louisiana that is now working a voodoo ritual on him.

One Last Thing

Actually a few last things before I put my favorite holiday (Halloween) completely behind me.

Odd how The Addams Family, inasmuch as they’ve been around for ages, was so immensely popular as costumed characters this time around.

I’m fairly certain Netflix’s Wednesday had something to do with it.

My Little Stalker’s GG sent me a vid of her Wednesday costume and dance, for which she won a 1st Place Medal in a costume contest.

In return, I put on my costume, took a video of the dance I learned from TikTok shortly after the movie came out last year.

So, that's it for Halloween this year, but it's not too early to plan for next year's costume and decorations while everything's on sale.

Except that's how I ended up with three, count 'em, three Thing hands.

I'd planned early, purchased Thing on sale but, as Halloween approached, could not find where I'd stored Thing.

Of course, after purchasing another, the first one turned up; but then I ran across the motion activated Thing, had to have it.

So now, I've a collection.

Oh well, I suppose three hands are better than one.

Never Again

That Diane Von Furstenberg suitcase is back, safe and sound.

Costing me around 50 bucks back in the day, I’ve had it for so many decades that it’s become a treasured object. So much so that I immediately regretted loaning it to Red Light.

Thinking the airlines might screw up, lose it, I looked online to see about a replacement — should that become necessary and learned the suitcase is now considered vintage, worth a couple hundred dollars.

Glad to have it back and, having learned my lesson, never again will I risk lending it out.

Next Door Neighbor happened to be returning to her unit, as Red Light was returning the luggage and, inasmuch as both are supported by the county, began talking about a rent increase letter received today.

Seems management has notified county recipients their rent will increase a whopping $500 in January.

Jesus f__king Christ!!!!

All of a sudden, my next year’s projected increase of $110 doesn’t seem all that terrible …… that is, unless it gets increased to more, and I'm thinking it will.

But either way, they can’t saddle me with an increase in January, along with the others. I’ve already looked up the law and management has to wait until July to put the screws to me.

From conversations I’ve had with others, county recipients receive their increases in January, so no way around it; but many on the county roll are already having trouble making their 24% of the current rent.

I’m terrible at math, but I figure a $500 increase, means those residents will have to come up with an additional $125.

Red Light is already talking about her daughter finding her somewhere else to live, and Di — the resident who’d been a brilliant woman, employed in a high-functioning job, something to do with working in a lab, until an automobile accident left her brain damaged, prone to seizures, is really struggling to make the current rent and said she wants to just hurry up and die.

Di is still very close friends to my old buddy Apache. In fact, I’m told he’s been taking the bus over here, picks her up, they go to lunch.

So, maybe she and Apache can work something out, become roommates at where he's now living; except, Red Light is telling me Apache has been "using".

"I don’t believe it", said I.

"You can see the track marks on his arms", said she.

I won’t believe it until I see his arms myself or if the Baker, who is also still very close to Apache, confirms it.

Waking up at 1:50 this morning, because I felt a disturbance in the force, I could not get back to sleep, felt weak, drained of energy all day.

I'd thought the disturbance was coming from a family member, but perhaps it was my senses alerting me to what I was soon to learn about Apache and what the county residents are facing.

At any rate, things are really heating up around here. The complex is fast becoming NOT affordable low-income housing. Quite a few residents may, of necessity, be moving out come January or willing themselves to transition from this life.

My head is spinning trying to figure out the end game.

Is the county going to pony up an additional $375 per resident on their roll?

Is management's end game to weed out the poorest of poor ... those who cannot afford the rent and bring in those who can?

Has my buddy Apache become an addict and why?

All will be revealed in time.

Hello November

Though the winds were still howling Halloween Eve, along about noon Tuesday, the power company issued an all-clear insofar as a threatened shutoff.

Yesterday, the sun was shining, no wind in sight and, as I took down the patio decorations, put my costume in storage, Halloween fast became a distant memory.

I’m pretty much an open book, but confess to now having at least one skeleton in my closet.

Making a run to Sprouts Farmers Market, after yesterday's workout, I saw Christmas already on display.

The annual Christmas movies began playing on TV early last week, while the old Peter Cushing Halloween monster movies were still playing.

Everything is so out of sequence.

As previously mentioned, I always buy at least one bag of candy, just in case a trick or treater shows up. In the old days, when I could eat what I wanted, not getting children in costumes at the door wasn’t a problem, I’d eat the candy myself.

However, since I can no longer do that, I’ll be taking the leftover candy down to the Community Room, let the residents have at it.

On TikTok, looking at videos of little trick or treaters, I ran across Transformer costumes.

Way cool …. but HOW?