Hippy Dippy

Today was the event I was unclear as to whether it's a Labor Day Luncheon or Bingo with Lunch at noon. So, I suited up and headed down early, to scope out the scene, see which it was and if it was something I wanted to get involved in.

Early being 11 a.m. wasn’t early enough because, standing outside the door peering in, I saw residents already seated.

I didn’t see any bingo cards, so I decided to step through the door, spend time in the free A/C and, as I entered, who did I see seated right next to the entrance but Meat Man — the resident who so annoyed former resident Home Girl. She'd moved out and to Sacramento in October ’24 to be closer to family.

Long time readers might recall when formerly named Handsome Man, here on the blog, was downgraded to Meat Man because, at Pizza Tuesday, he had flirted with Home Girl in a disrespectful manner ... when the then Activity Director asked what kind of pizza he wanted, he’d responded "Meat", then looked at Home Girl (who had enormous boobs and an equally enormous behind) in a leering manner and added "Because I like meat".

Thereafter, every time Home Girl ran into him, she went out of her way to be rude, show her disgust and, in camaraderie, I renamed him Meat Man, LOL.

So, anyway, Meat Man had never crossed the line with me, Home Girl is no longer living here for me to support her, so I sat down and, in between my moving around snapping photos for the Residents’ FB page, Meat Man and I chatted.

I did tell him that he’d been persona non grata for a while because of his sleezy approach to Home Girl and, rascal that he is, he laughed and laughed and laughed, saying "Well, I do like meat".

You can’t stay upset with a good-natured bad boy who knows he’s bad and is proud of it.

I ended up taking a photo with him.

Residents are gonna talk.

I didn’t see much Labor Day in the event. It was more like a birthday bash for the Baker ... the room decorated in colors and items she likes.

I was asked to sign cards for two others, so I guess those two lucked up to be included in such an elaborate birthday party as, normally, they would have just gotten cake and an off-tune song at bingo.

Lunch looked to be Spanish themed, but I didn’t stick around long enough to see exactly what was on the table. I just took a few photos, chatted with Meat Man, headed back to my never-ending needlepoint project, and other stuff.

I imagine Talker will take over where I left off, send me photos of the cakes and video of the singing to post.

During the week, having decided I wasn’t happy with that pouch I’d made for the medical device, I flashed back to the Hippy Dippy days when Indian styled medicine bags were the thing. Nixing the idea of replacing the rope with a chain, I picked up suede cord, wooden beads, and reworked the pouch into a medicine bag.

I can fit the entire device, rope and all into the bag and no problem being able to access the button through the bag.

Much more stylish, hippy dippy type jewelry and, with plans to make a neutral faux leather version that will go with every outfit, I won’t have to make more than just the two medicine bags.

MEME OF THE DAY

Shake, Rattle, Roll

At 9:35 this morning, as I was working on a project for the Baker, the building began to shake, the patio windows and glassware in the unit began to rattle, the couch began to roll.

I began holding onto the laptop for dear life, as the realization hit EARTHQUAKE!!!

I’ve experienced earthquakes plenty times before and, as the building actually moved (not just my building but reports are other buildings as well), this one scared me to where the blood in my body rushed to my head, leaving me even more lightheaded than I’ve normally been lately. So, it had to be much stronger than 3.0 reported.

On the other hand, looking at the earthquake map, the quake may have felt stronger because it looks like we were in the epicenter.

Considering it’s like being in the eye of the storm, we here at the complex have been lucky — buildings still standing, insofar as I know, and only one aftershock felt by me.

Having survived this morning’s quake, I’m not so sure I’m going to survive the Baker’s latest project.

It was just last week when I’d posted she’d asked me to do flyers for a "Labor Day party on September 5 with bingo" well in advance of September’s Labor Day.

For clarification I asked, "Is it bingo or is it a party?"

"Bingo and party, we just don't want to put party on the flyer because then we will have like 60 people coming".

Still not entirely clear, but I worked it out as "Labor Day Bingo", completed and delivered flyers.

So tell me why did I get a text message from the Baker yesterday asking me to do a flyer for Labor Day.

"Didn’t we already do Labor Day?" asked I.

"Yes", but change the date from the 5th to the 8th and label it "party".

WTF?

Who’s on first?

So, as it stands today — 32 days well in advance of September 1st Labor Day, the High Table is planning a "Labor Day Party" (no mention of bingo this time) on Friday, September 5.

I have a feeling that, with so many days for the Baker to rethink the plan, today might not be the end of Labor Day flyers.

Other than that, I did learn from the Baker that the Activity Director quit her job.

Unless someone in the office does the pick-up and delivery back to the complex, or unless and until a new Activity Director is hired, that may very well be the end, after all these years, of Pizza Tuesday — free whole boxed pizzas donated to the seniors.

As for why Activity Director quit …… it has something to do with a manager. But surprise …… not our manager, the one everyone seems to dislike, but her new manager at the agency through which Corporate has contracted Activity Director's services.

Activity Director reported to the seniors that she was "having a really hard time with the new boss, and she just could not take any more how that woman was treating her", so she resigned.

Having gone through the ringer my own self while in the working world, I get it, but I personally think that, though difficult to deal with crazy bosses, quitting is not the way through.

Labor Day? It’s Still Monday

It’s been dead as a doornail here on the complex, and I don’t think it merely seems so just because I’ve morphed into a recluse, and thus out of the loop, but is an actuality.

Nothing interesting even popping up on the window cam, except I did see Gandalf showing up earlier in the week, performing that "this far and no further" ritual of walking to the edge of the walkway by the stairs, looking to his left then returning to the unit. However, strangely, he showed up just that one time.

So, is he still living down there with his mom or not? Who knows for sure, but I surmise so.

His brother Compton is no longer parking on the property, so I guess Manager got what she wanted — him gone …… or thinks she got what she wanted because he’s still on camera heading to/from work, but it’s during hours when the office is closed, no management personnel around to know any different.

He must be parking/hiding his car nearby.

All in all, it appears Ms. Neighbor's two sons are on the downlow, keeping a low profile, staying away from prying eyes and out of the crosshairs of management.

With the resident known as Red Light having moved and no one willing to take over her self-motivated job of planning BBQs for us residents, it’s not going to look much like a holiday around here today, except for the absence of staff.

For me, it’s just another Monday anyway — a workout this morning and a grocery run after.

I did however manage to have a three-day weekend, because Trainer rescheduled me beastmode last week (back-to-back workouts Wednesday and Thursday), so he and his team could travel out-of-town Friday for a weekend Muay Thai fighting event.

Unmotivated, and the weather still too hot, I did not leave the unit, train for a 5K that might be coming up at the University. Instead, it was three days of needlepoint and prison break. In addition to which, a great deal of time was devoted to putting out fires, as I received notification sensitive data had made it to the Dark Web.

Back in May, when I returned from Pride Week in Long Beach, I received a fraud alert on my credit card, which alert necessitated cancelling the card. This latest breach seems to have stemmed from that incident, and I have a sense it was a bank employee, the one that assisted me in cancelled the card, who leaked/sold other even more sensitive data he collected during that conversation.

At any rate, all I could do this time was to put a lock on everything it was possible to lock, change passwords, and cross my fingers the scammers will find I'm not financially worth the effort.

It boggles my mind that there are people whose job it is to run phishing scams, find ways and means to defraud/take advantage of others.

If the scammers plan to use the information to file next year’s taxes in my name, reap the reward, they’re in for a surprise — find themselves liable for a bill to pay rather than a return, LOL.

Speaking of jobs, this Labor Day also marks the 14th year of my sliding the chute, or close enough as I officially retired on September 7.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again ……… Time flies when one is not having to deal, on a daily basis, with functionally insane employers, various forms of racism and abuse of authority.

Though the flashbacks and trauma lives on, I consider myself one of the lucky ones to have gotten out alive, as I once thought I’d be like the 60-year-old Wells Fargo employee who was recently found dead at her desk, four days after she’d last clocked in.

I fully expected to be a little old lady keeling over dying at my desk, but would have hoped my death would have been noticed before people were alerted by the smell, as was the case with this employee.

A worse fate would have been coworkers trying to get rid of me by taking me on a hike and leaving me behind, as was the case for the insurance underwriter on a work retreat, who also made the news this weekend — rescued after a night stuck on 14,230 foot Mt. Shavano during a freezing rainstorm after being left behind by his 14 coworkers.

If I understand the story correctly, those coworkers did not report him missing for 8 hours, which was after the guy miraculously survived the night, managed to get a cell signal and call for help his own darn self.

Just goes to show, though the struggle to retirement is real, and leaves one with lingering trauma, it's better than dying at one's desk or being downsized out by coworkers.

Labor Day? It’s Still Monday

Just another Monday for me, which means my regular routine — a workout this morning and a stop by the market after.

Of course, complex management has the day off, which isn't saying much because the office has been closed since the day after Carnival, with only Assistant Maintenance Guy doing whatever it is he's been doing — probably enjoying the others being gone.

I wonder if Corporate knows no one has been in the office because, in past days when there was an absence, Corporate would send someone down to cover.

The fact that Corporate has not done so is a puzzle piece telling me Corporate is either being kept in the dark OR Corporate knows the something us residents have not been allowed to know and are not risking another team member to come down, work in that building for the time being.

On Friday, one would have thought Red Light was manager because, at bingo, as people would enter the building looking for someone in the office to speak to for whatever reason — probably inquire about applying for a unit here, Red Light would leave the Community Room, go out to the Lobby, greet the person(s), speak with them, tell them whatever it was she told them about why no one was available, the person(s) would leave, Red Light would return to the Community Room looking even more full of herself than she usually does.

Not sure how it happened, not even sure when it happened, but Red Light has become the Big Beoch on campus — strutting around like she’s in charge, knows everything going on, telling those she can control what to do, even taking on parts of Activity Director’s job … making arrangements for speakers to come in.

Makes me curious, though I'm not comfortable asking, what her background is, what line of work she was in before she ended up here, on the county welfare roll.

Must have been a high mucky muck job because her large and in charge attitude reminds me of how Next-Door Neighbor, previously a State Commissioner before she too ended up here via the county welfare roll, used to be ... that is until her treating others as though they were her employees got her impeached as president of the then Residents' Activity Committee.

Thus far, Red Light has not, to my knowledge, pissed anyone off.

I, and the Usual Suspects as well, are quite content to let her take the lead role, with us as supporting cast — otherwise there would be no bingo and other resident sponsored events; but she did slip one day, when she was spilling the tea, and say, "Don’t tell anyone what I just told you. I have to be careful because they're after me".

She need not have worried. I'm not that person who goes around tipping over teacups. I save what tea I get for the blog; but I assumed the "they" she was speaking of is the current Complex Manager and the conflict being both are vying for the title of HBIC.

Thus far, it’s a tie.

Speaking of previous lines of work, this Labor Day marks my 13th year of sliding the chute, or close enough as I officially retired on September 7.

Time flies when one is not having to deal, on a daily basis, with functionally insane employers, various forms of racism and abuse of authority.

Remembering all I had to tolerate to remain employed, make it to retirement, puts the way management treats us seniors into perspective — mere child’s play ... annoying, but we've all survived worse.

Labor Day? It’s Still Monday

It’s still Monday, which meant a workout this morning and a stop by the market after.

The only change to a normal Monday routine was when Trainer set the workout playlist to old school Boys 2 Men, instead of the usual playlist of today’s music — like Dua Lipa, Ed Sheeran, Shawn Mendes, Doja Cat and the likes — even Justin Bieber (anything but Country because Trainer hates Country Music).

When I said Boys 2 Men was a nice change except, back in the day, I was more into NSync and the Backstreet Boys, had even taken granddaughter to an NSync concert, Trainer switched the music up for me and himself got caught up in the groove.

I didn't receive word the seniors were doing anything special today for themselves — it’s too hot outside for a potluck BBQ anyway. So back in my air-conditioned unit (fortunately the a/c is still hanging in there after a vigorous workout last few very hot days and everyone in the complex pulling from the system) it was back to a kitchen de-clutter project I picked this Labor Day weekend to begin.

I don’t know if it was seeing Red Light’s cluttered kitchen that sent me on this project, or the fact I learned the Seer moved out last week, went to live with her daughter because she (the Seer) had a stroke. However, every time we lose someone, I do think about getting rid of stuff — not leaving so much for family to have to deal with should something happen.

I knew I’d not seen the Seer walking down the walkway or in bingo for weeks and weeks and weeks, was wondering where she was. Learned at Friday’s surprise birthday party for the Baker that the health issues she’d been dealing with for years had gotten the best of her, she’d had a stroke, was hospitalized and instead of returning to the complex, moved in with her daughter and grandkids.

Though the close friendship we enjoyed was long ago gone because, when she hooked up with Shadow, she suffered a drastic personality change (as documented here and there on the blog), I’m sorry to hear life has not gone well for the Seer.

Especially sorry because Shadow was such a bad influence on her, sent her on a path that ended with putting her at odds with most everyone here on the complex at that time which, in the end, cost her valuable helpful friendships that could not be repaired after the two of them were splitsville.

I remember when the two of them walked into an event and the bad vibes coming from the two were palpable, killed the energy in the room. I was still in my not giving up on her stage back then, so I greeted her with "Hey! How are you?" Her reply was "I’m good, but nobody better not say nothing to me".

Alrighty then. You create your own reality.

After scaring people thusly, on more than one occasion, nobody would know what to say that wouldn’t offend her, so everyone just stayed out of her way.

Then, when she and Shadow broke up, there she was pretty much alone. Now she’s gone, he’s still here.

I never did find out why she and Shadow broke up, but thinking about it reminded me of another couple I think have called it quits.

It may be time for our Karen character to take a new try at Dream Lover because, at the surprise birthday party, I noticed Dream Lover and his girlfriend were not only not speaking to each other, not looking at each other, but sat separate and apart — he at one end of the room, she at the other end farthest from him.

Awkard!

Too bad these couples didn't live by that old idiom, "Don't poop where you eat".

Happy Labor Day

I had a change of heart and gave Trainer today off.

On Friday, when Trainer asked if I’d planned to workout on Monday, my reply had been “Yes. That is unless you have plans”. He’d said he had none, but then asked me to change my time, come in as early as I could get there — which I said was 10:00.

After thinking about that conversation, I realized he really didn’t want to open up the studio just to accommodate my little 30 minute morning workout, but didn’t want to let me down because he’d had that daughter situation which caused his taking off last Monday.

Feeling guilty about taking him away from his family, I texted that I’d changed my mind, was giving him today off, that I’d see him Wednesday.

So here I sit with leisure time — no errands, no reason to get dressed, go outside, face the world until Wednesday — just nap, catch up on recorded television programs, needlepoint, detox from humanity.

And speaking of humanity, when I stepped outside to take out the trash yesterday, Next Door Neighbor was coming back from the pool. Here was my opportunity to ask if she'd had problems with the market's security guard.

I was a little hesitate to ask, afraid I'd put my foot in my mouth because one just never knows who can be trusted in discussing others.

We've had incidents here when folks have gone out of their way to start trouble by tattling to so and so what this one said, what that one said.

When the grapevine leaks a tidbit to me, I don't repeat what I've heard to anyone around here. I blog about it, LOL.

So not knowing if that security guard had charmed Next Door Neighbor, as he seems to have charmed everyone he works with and other customers with his faux friendliness, it was a risk to bring him up, but I took the risk, asking if he'd ever said or done anything to make her feel uncomfortable.

He had not.

She said he greets her with "hello" when she walks in, but that was all.

So why am I the unlucky one?

And when I say "faux" friendliness, I mean this guy is smart. He knows how to play the game, how to manipulate people.

It's like what you see in the news and on television, when neighbors learn that the guy down the street who was so friendly, so helpful, so pleasant, turns out to be a serial killer. At first, neighbors are all in denial, angry he's been charged ... "Oh No, not Charlie. I don't believe it. You've arrested the wrong guy. He was always so friendly, so helpful, so pleasant".

Yeah, sure. That was the image he fed you, so no one would suspect he was a bad guy, and you bought it.

At any rate, I'm over it. I'm too old for this kind of crap.

And speaking of crap women deal with, in tonight's TV viewing is Harry & Megan: Escaping the Palace. In the promo for the movie, Megan is asking us viewers a question.

Even though, spiritually speaking/Dharma, there are no mistakes, my answer is YES.

Knowing now what she did not know then, experiencing what she's had to endure, Megan probably would have given more weight to what Princess Diana and Fergie said they'd gone through, and chosen NOT to get involved in that Royal Family.

At any rate, I'm off to start this leisurely day with pancakes for breakfast, made TikTok style.

A creator came up with a hack that, instead of stovetop, bake the batter in the oven 450 for 15-18 minutes … in a sheet pan, cut the cooked pancakes into rectangles.

She added chocolate chips and berries to her batter.

I'll be adding blueberries and bacon to mine and, with a full sheet pan being too many portions for me, I'll be using a small cake pan, but I'm putting a half sheet pan, maybe even a quarter sheet (if there is such a thing) on my shopping list.

Mine may not turn out as pretty as hers, but you can't mess up pancakes and it will be nice not to have to slave over a hot stove on Labor Day.

Stream of Consciousness

Also known as, this and that on this Labor Day ─ not looking much like a holiday around here, except for the absence of staff.

I made it through the weekend without the smoke detector going off again.

This may be because I didn’t move the stepstool.

When I’d pulled out the stepstool to disconnect the beeping mechanism on Friday, the beeping stopped. This made me superstitious that, if I put the stepstool away, the smoke detector would start beeping again. Not wanting to take the chance, I left the stool as was.

With staff back tomorrow, I can then take the chance to put the stool back in storage.

If there is no beeping during the day but, if after hours, when staff has left for the day, the beeping restarts, I’ll know for sure the smoke detector is possessed.

A spiritual practitioner I’ve worked with for years, now basically retired from the practice, living in Hawaii, celebrated her 100^th birthday over the weekend.

She said it was a goal to live to 100.

It surprised me that she, or anyone, would actually set 100 as a goal.

To each their own, I guess.

It also got me to thinking that, even though this practitioner looks to be in good condition for her age, living to 100 would not be something I’d want for myself.

As it is, I continue to be surprised that I’m still here, when I’d always felt I’d be gone by 35 ─ one way or another.

Here I am 40 years past that, with no end in sight.

That’s the reason why I signed up to workout at the Pain Cave.

Inasmuch as it never entered my mind to live this long, I’d not paid a whole lot of attention to maintaining my physicality, other than normal upkeep.

I’ve got a few things that, had I been more concerned with my physicality, would not be a challenge now. But, as has been said, “If I knew I was going to live this long, I’d have taken better care of myself”.

At any rate, it is what it is and, looking around at how some of my neighbors have fared in this aging game, what is could have been a whole lot worse.

Sitting on my couch perch, people watching through the patio window, it was scary to see residents previously observed bouncing along the path, had deteriorated to the point of shuffling along, looking like one of AMC’s Walking Dead, or now dependent on a cane or walker.

Realizing the deteriorating atmosphere was rubbing off ─ that I myself was getting slower, weaker, felt tired all the time, I decided that, since I don’t know when my expiration date will be, I didn’t want to go out the way the other residents are going and had better make the best of it, get myself in as good a shape as I can at this stage.

But though I feel, had I known I was to live this long, I’d have taken better care of myself, Trainer tells me I’m in better shape than some of his clients in their 20’s and 30’s.

“How is that possible?” asked I.

“Too much partying, overindulgences”, said he. “By the time they get to me, it’s a complete rebuild, rather than a restore”.

Trainer says it’s not unusual for the younger clients to find the work so hard that they throw up during a session.

He says, one young lady stopped in the middle of a workout, said, “It’s too hard. I can’t do this anymore” and walked out, never to return.

Other clients have complained so much about it being hard, and whine about not wanting to do this routine, not wanting to struggle with that equipment, yada yada yada, that Trainers says it brings him down. He’s told them, “I can’t work with you” and sent them on their way.

LOL.

So, though I still occasionally wish I’d known I was going to live this long, so I could have done some things differently, it is what it is and I’m grateful the is isn’t worse.

Still, I’m hoping so not to 100.

All day Sunday was prep work for the new stitch piece.

I had to zigzag stitch the edges of the aida cloth, so it would not fray. And it took hours and hours and hours to set up 65 different floss colors.

I’m so anxious to start the new project that, though I’ve not yet finished the current piece, I’ve decided to work on both, but on alternating days.

This should be interesting.

Later in the evening, while watching Big Brother, I decided to give myself a mani/pedi.

When I’d been at Michael’s the day before yesterday, I’d gotten into a discussion with the nicely manicured cashier about her nail art and how I was thinking about, but was reluctant to try, the new social media sensation ─ Skittle Nails.

As seen on the internet

I told the cashier that though I liked the way it looked on other people, I was afraid I myself would look like a clown.

“Sometimes, we’ve got to step outside our comfort zone”, said she.

That statement struck my somewhat conservative basic one-color or french manicure self, and I thought … why not.

I’m liking it.

Think it will be my thing for a while.

It’s a great way to use up a stash of leftover colors.

The Invisible Woman

The sore throat and ear infection I brought back with me from the Long Beach/San Pedro area were easily handled with a vinegar/hot water gargle and a few drops of garlic ear oil, so I made it down yesterday to the seniors’ Labor Day BBQ. I even ran by the market to pick up a dish to contribute ─ Klondike Bars because my days of slaving over deviled eggs are over and done with.

It was an okay spread ...

Chicken and Ribs

Potato Salad and Baked Beans

More Potato Salad, Macaroni Salad, Lentil/Rice Soup

In attendance were the usual suspects. I counted about 20 of us inside, three at one of the patio tables, and three others (not pictured) outside.

Two of the attendees not pictured were residents I was surprised to see, as they don’t normally attend the Resident Volunteer Activity Committee events ─ The woman who said, “Don’t put me on no facebook” and the Little Bully. No personal or particular reasons they don’t attend, they either just never do or, it’s entirely possible, they don’t get the word and this time they did.

Church Lady was surprisingly absent, but The Seer and Shadow made an appearance.

The Seer was once again in defensive mode, announcing a loud warning as she entered, that “Nobody better not saying nothing to me” ─  meaning don't say anything she might take issue with, then she came over and chatted with me for a second.

For the life of me, I can’t remember what we talked about. It may have been asking me what I’ve been up to, because it’s been a long while, since undergoing a radical personality change, which has her now travelling a different path, that she’s opted to chat with me.

In fact, it was not only The Seer but more residents than I can count who looked surprised to see me and asked what I’ve been up to indicating they’d not seen me in such a long time.

I found that strange because I check in with the folks most Pizza Tuesdays and occasionally head down for Bingo, walk to the Mail Center, go weigh myself on the scale in the Game Room, so if people are not seeing me out and about it must mean I’ve attained a super power ─ Invisibility.

Most surprising of all was when the neighbor who lives upstairs across the quad over Nosey expressed surprise to see me saying, “Where have you been? I don’t see you anymore. I use to see you heading to the market, but not for a long time and your car never moves.”

I really didn’t know what to say because she can look out her patio window, see my patio and can’t help but notice the blinds close at night, open in the morning to know I’m around. Plus, the car wasn’t there Friday and Saturday when I’d gone out-of-town, and multiple times before that as I headed out to pick up packages at the Amazon Locker, hunting Pokémon and other errands.

At any rate, today is once again Pizza Tuesday, so it’s business as usual here at the complex. After having spent time with the seniors yesterday, I’ve no desire to do anything but needlepoint and catch up on recorded television programs today, so I’m going to make myself even more invisible by staying indoors today.

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.

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.