Fresh Tea

Just when it began looking like things were going to be dull around here, nothing to post for a while, on my way to the trash receptacle earlier today, I ran into Ms Neighbor (aka mom) — mother of Compton and Gandalf. She was transferring clothes, neatly hung on hangers to her car.

"Are you moving?" asked I.

"Not until end of the year" said she.

Inasmuch as I’d already surmised she wasn’t living here full time, just checking in from time to time, the act of moving clothes out must be because she’s taking them to wherever it is she’s spending her time — a boyfriend’s place or her daughter’s home.

At any rate, I asked why she was moving end of the year and she went off on a tirade about the Complex Manager. Said she can’t get along with her, that Manager is rude, doesn’t do anything and is a liar.

Compton was sitting in his car, parked backwards, facing the walkway, watching his mom and I in conversation. When mom said, "She’s a liar", mom elaborated that the lie was about "my son" and, as mom said "my son" she turned and pointed towards Compton still sitting in his car observing.

That must have unnerved Compton. Probably though I was ratting him out to mom about leaving that note on my door to call/text him (I’m no rat. He's behaved since, so I’d never), because he got out of the car, walked over to listen to what we were talking about.

His mom said she’d gone to the office to complain about the $81 rent increase, had told manager, "FOR WHAT?! YOU DON’T DO ANYTING. I’M STILL WAITING FOR MY CEILING FAN TO BE FIXED!"

Not smart to yell at Manager. I've seen folks evicted/banned from the property in the past for that crime. Better to be calm, patient, use finesse to outwit outplay outlast.

Evidently Complex Manager is of the mindset that the best defense is an offense, so instead of addressing the complaint about the increase and her not doing her job, Manager turned the topic to mom’s son. ("Son", hahaha, because the two look so much alike I guess manager, like I did for some time, didn’t realize it’s sons, two of them).

Mom said Manager got loud and said, "I WANT YOUR SON OUT OF HERE TODAY OR I’M CALLING THE POLICE!"

Right away, I'm thinking Compton had made advances towards another female resident and she had reported him. But no, Manager's beef with Compton was "HE YELLED AT MY ASSISTANT AND HER HUSAND!"

Mom says she later asked her son (Compton) about the purported incident and he said he never saw the Assistant or her husband.

Mom then went to the Assistant and her husband, asked them about the purported incident. They said it never happened.

What purpose was it for Manager to tell a bald faced lie?

I'm beginning to understand why residents and her own staff do not like her, are not comfortable around her.

This confrontation Mom had with Manager happened sometime last week/week before. Compton is still here, so I guess Manager calling the cops was an empty threat.

Mom went on to say, during the shout fest with Manager, in questioning the rent increase she’d asked what’s in the lease about these increases; whereupon Manager said, "We don’t have leases here anymore".

Well, that’s interesting, and may explain why so many residents are getting away with things I knew to be Lease Violations in the past because, if "We don’t have leases here anymore", then there are no restrictions, no Lease Violations.

Next Door Neighbor walked up on the conversation I was having with Mom — Compton standing to the side listening.

It was my cue to exit stage left when NDN and mom began talking about all the complaints they and others have about Manager and how it is "She needs to go".

With nothing to add to the conversation, as Manager has thus far been nice to me — probably nice to me because my contacts with her have been via email ... I long ago found it wise to keep a paper trail on our various managers, I finished my trek to the dumpster, headed back to my unit, logged onto the laptop to blog this latest tea while still fresh.

So as it stands, if mom and her sons are not evicted for whatever lie Manager can fabricate in the interim, it’s looking like Ms. Neighbor, Compton and Gandalf will be outta here end of the year.

The Window

TinTin’s window has gone through several transformations.

There was this first one.

Then a second.

A third last week.

Seeing our formerly Assistant Maintenance Guy, recently promoted to Head Maintenance, in this area several times last few weeks, and once earlier today, I thought to myself "He has to see and be aware of this tacky looking madness".

Lo and Behold, a few hours later as I looked out the patio window around 6 p.m. this evening, I noticed I could actually see TinTin’s venetian blinds — all the cardboard, fabric and whatever else she had covering her window had been removed.

Maybe Head Maintenance Guy said something to TinTin after all, or reported it to the Complex Manager and she told TinTin it’s not a good look for the quad, take it down.

The window is still not a hundred percent, as it appears some of what TinTin had stuck to the window is not coming off, or she's added something new.

I originally thought perhaps it was a shadow produced by the way the sun is hitting, but no. The sun went down, the shadow remains.

Even with whatever it is that's stuck to the window, it looks better than any of the other transformations TinTin came up with for whatever reason.

Time is flying by. Yesterday was already the one-year anniversary of the Alabama Boat Brawl.

It was way too hot to wear my commemorative shirt — the one honoring the symbol (the folding chair) of when those racists boaters FAFO, and though I was not aware of any celebratory activities near here there was a commemorative walk in Alabama, along the site of the riverboat brawl.

During yesterday’s workout, Trainer asked, "Can I tell you something and you not get mad?".

"Sure" said I.

"You promise you won’t get mad?".

"I promise".

At that point, I wasn't sure where he was going with this, but begin to worry maybe he was raising his prices or, for whatever reason, was going to have to drop me as a client.

Assured that whatever he had to say I'd not get mad, he said "Okay, Now don't get mad".

Trainer is not into politics, says he doesn’t care who’s in power as he doesn’t feel it will make his life better or worse. He doesn’t care, and I can’t blame him, because I had that same mindset my whole entire life. That is until No. 45 was such an embarrassment and irritation that I registered to vote just to help get rid of him.

Trainer is well aware I am not a fan, knows I have a voodoo doll and have nothing nice to say about that fool.

So, after ensuring I’d not get angry, Trainer says, he heard No. 45 say something that made sense to him. It was something about Kamala identifying as Indian, but now saying she’s Black.

THAT made sense to Trainer?

He’s probably been kicked in the head one to many times in Muay Thai competitions, but okay.

Didn’t bother me one bit.

I simply said, "I don’t care if she identifies as a purple frog. I’ll vote for anyone who is not him".

THAT ended that, so he went on to tell me how great the Deadpool and Wolverine movie is.

Ain’t Like it was Before

TinTin’s houseguests (the man and woman with the dog) were sitting on the stairs outside TinTin’s unit, in the already hot sun, when I headed for this morning’s workout at 10:45.

Thinking something was going on outside and they were sitting there observing, I looked around, didn’t see anything, so said "Good morning" and asked "What’s happening?".

The guy mumbled something I couldn’t make out, but took to mean nothing, so I didn’t think anything of it, figured they were just sitting there chillin, until I realized they were surrounded by luggage.

I once before saw them moving out with luggage, assumed they were taking a little vacation; and they did return a few days later. However, this time it occurred to me that this is their life — carting their belongings from place to place, couch surfing.

Returning hours later, after picking up groceries, running an errand, the pair were still sitting in the hot sun.

Evidently, they do not have a key to TinTin’s unit, were waiting for her return to let them in.

Interesting.

Passing the pair multiple times, as I made trips to/from the car, unloading purchases, I noticed the dog was not with them.

Oh! Oh!

Readers might recall the two of them originally had just the cutest pair of flat-faced/snub nose looking puppies — one all-black the other all-white, which the guy said were Argentine Pitbulls.

The white pup sadly passed away from parvo and later, when the guy tried to convince me the much older dog, with black/white trim on the paws, and a patch of white above the nose they now have, is the same little black Argentine Pitbull, I played stupid, pretended to accept his lie, but knew the other Pitbull pup must have also passed of parvo.

But why tell such a blatant lie?

So, anyway, going back/forth to the car, it suddenly occurred to me Oh! Oh! the dog was not with them, so I asked, "Where’s your puppy?"

"At my cousin’s house" said the guy.

Do I believe him?

NO!

Unless and until I see the dog return, I’m going with …… they are not responsible dog owners and something has happened to this, their third.

Truth be told — Why people who can’t seem to take care of themselves, are living from pillar to post, choose to bring a pet into this scenario is beyond me.

They have each other to worry about, don’t need the responsibility of a dog.

As the hours ticked by, there they were in the hot sun — no key, dog not with them as they waited for TinTin to let them in and, inasmuch as I was raised to be neighborly, I was tempted to take cold water down to them, invite them in to wait, use the bathroom but the words of a wise man (before he later became a dead walker) came to mind.

Shane's Walking Dead pep talk, telling Rick to be ruthless, that how one approaches things post-walking dead can’t be the same as pre-walking dead.

THAT and remembering how it is that "No good deed goes unpunished".

Things aren’t the same around here as they were when I first moved in. Too many people with questionable status now; so, I forced myself to let them suffer in the hot sun.

Besides, they could go across the street to the gas station or the corner 7-Eleven for refreshments and potty use.

It wasn’t until late afternoon, when I looked out the patio window, saw they and their belongings had disappeared, assumed TinTin had returned, let them in.

In other news, just when I thought it was safe because school was back in session, there was a ding dong knockety knock knock on the door around 8:00 pm yesterday.

It was a visit from my Little Stalker.

She tried to hide in the corner, so she could jump out and scare me when I opened the door, but I was onto her.

I guess school is not yet back in session.

The Wait is Over

According to the "30-Day Notice to Change the Terms of your Rental Agreement" posted to my door yesterday, the rent increase I’ve been dreading jumps to an additional $81 beginning September 1.

Considering the level of greed other rental communities have been experiencing, and the fact the County received a $500 increase, for those they support on the complex back in November, $81 isn’t bad.

Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, I can't help but wonder if that FBI Raid on Cortland Management/Real Page over algorithmic price-fixing collusion to raise rents nationwide, I blogged about last month, caused Corporate to tread carefully, keep the increase within a reasonable range.

In other news, logging onto TikTok yesterday evening, I find I’ve 38 followers.

Interesting, especially since there’s nothing to see there, nothing in my profile — no videos, no content whatsoever. I’m just a lurker.

My sick sense of humor is especially fond of watching funny scare pranks.

So, with nothing to see there and no plans to be anything other than a lurker, I cannot but wonder …… why are people following me?

To top it off, I noticed one of the 38 is White Grandma (granddaughter’s mother in law).

First of all, I’m impressed White Grandma (WG) even knows about TikTok, knew how to log on and follow.

Second of all, WG is not someone you want following you on social media, knowing anything about where you go, what you do with your life.

Not the most pleasant human being — critical, judgmental, it’s all about her privileged Karen type, WG has caused so much distress for the kids (granddaughter and grandson-in-law), that she initially got herself banned from my great-grandson’s (her grandson’s) 2-year birthday party back in May.

After an intervention where the kids explained to WG what is and what is not acceptable behavior if she wants to be a part of their life, WG was reinvited to the party where she was warm and comfortable to be around.

But I ain’t trusting the intervention to take.

You know the adages ……… can’t teach an old dog new tricks, once a snake always a snake, buyer beware; so I would block her on TikTok, as I did when, some time ago, I became aware she was following me on Instagram, but inasmuch as there’s nothing to see there on TikTok, she can continue to waste her time following me to her heart’s content.

One Job, Four Years to Get 'Er Done

The extensive heat mellowed a little today. Instead of over 100°, we stabilized around 95°. However, the tradeoff for less heat was another earthquake.

By the time the shake rattle roll reached us, it was so mild that, but for the fact the dishes began rattling, I’d have not even noticed.

Earlier today, headed for the morning workout, I ran into the next-door neighbor of Not Dead Nancy.

Having previously heard from others that Nancy was back from months in the hospital, but not seeing her myself, I sought to verify Nancy’s status by asking her neighbor, "Did Nancy ever come back?"

"I don’t even know if she’s there or not", said she; and went on to say "They brought her back, and then they took her back. Her daughter was supposed to come help her other daughter take care of her and she didn’t. She never came. And her daughter, she’s a nurse, said I can’t be here all day. She wanted for me to come do it, but I can’t do it. So, I don’t know if she’s there".

That’s sad that one of Nancy’s daughters wants no part of caring for her ailing mother. The other daughter seems to care but, with being employed as a nurse, can’t be a fulltime caregiver for her mom.

I guess Nancy can’t afford to contract a caregiver, and as to why the nurse daughter doesn’t just move Nancy in with her and her family, who knows. But it’s pretty nervy to ask a neighbor to take responsibility for their mother’s care. So, I’m guessing Nancy’s next-door neighbor doesn’t know if Nancy is in there or not because she’s no longer checking for fear of having the job of caregiver dumped on her.

I don’t know what exactly is ailing Nancy, but I’m sorry she is having such a hard time of it, not going gently into that good night, but I can’t blame her next-door neighbor for not wanting to get involved. I wouldn’t want that responsibility for someone I’m not related to either.

In other news, I couldn’t get excited about the Olympics this time around and, seeing reports of bad food for the Olympians, so bad that they’re flying in their own chefs; bad living quarters, cheating scandals, Olympians and coaches and broadcasters leaving and/or being asked to leave, a disappointing Opening Ceremony, including introducing the South Korean team as North Korea, events cancelled for one reason or another, so on and so forth, it seems I made the right choice in not getting excited.

Paris had one job .... prepare and four years to do it but, from what I gather, it’s a cluster you know what.

I expect, when all is said and done, heads will roll.

Nighttime is Scary

Realizing I’ve not run into Compton and Gandalf’s mom in some time, I checked the camera footage back to the day I set it up, July 9, and find mom (Ms. Neighbor) is not showing up as still living here. She’s made an appearance, checked in a time or two since, but seems to be residing elsewhere — maybe with her daughter, maybe with a boyfriend.

My mom did something similar when three of my four brothers, still in their teens, lived with her in a one-bedroom apartment, and began wearing her down.

I was out at my own at the time, dealing with learning, growing and that cop I married.

My brother Johnny, four/five years younger than I was likewise also out on his own, starting a family when mom found herself a boyfriend — Morris, the man who would eventually become my stepfather, and escaped the boys by moving in with Morris.

My sister, a few years younger than Johnny, was also out on her own.

Mom paid the rent and utilities on the apartment, where resided the twins and my youngest brother; provided groceries, but never actually lived there while the boys finished school, did whatever it is teen boys do.

When mom married Morris and they bought a house, the three boys eventually made their way to living in the house with mom and Morris.

I don’t know all the details, but think it safe to assume Morris and mom could not afford both a house payment and the apartment for the boys.

My youngest brother finished school, worked through his teen angst, got out on his own, eventually bought his own home, started a family, worked for an oil company.

That left my twin brothers for mom and Morris to deal with.

The twins remind me of Compton and Gandalf — Compton appears to be working as nighttime security, Gandalf hangs around ………… one of my twin brothers worked menial jobs as a shoe salesman, the other lounged around, never held a job.

Neither twin ever left home. Never got out of the neighborhood. Never lived on their own, away from mom.

The last time I ran into Ms. Neighbor she’d changed her style — wore braids the entire time I’ve known her to live here, but had suddenly taken her braids out, was sporting a press and curl.

That kind of change translates boyfriend, rather than living with daughter, but either way, it’s still a lease violation for the boys to be here, in a senior complex — with or without her.

While reviewing prior camera footage, looking for the last time I actually captured Ms. Neighbor on camera, I saw two things I really wish I hadn’t seen.

Please watch this next video to end, tell me if it's as spooky to you as it is to me.

I’d like to convince myself this was just a cat, but what’s scaring me is knowing cats don't shimmy up walls like whatever this blur is did.

And for sure, whatever beast this is, it’s not a cat.

What with TinTin’s window coverings and Gandalf’s nighttime ritual, which he has now moved to daylight hours as well, things are weird around here, but nighttime is full on scary.