Nobody is Promised Tomorrow. . .
“The best camera is the camera you have with you.” I was strolling home from work this afternoon and happened upon this marvelous butterfly. Shamu the Phone was the camera I had with me. And, I think Shamu did a fine job.
My GMAIL account is 10 years old and has some 10 year old emails. I am wondering, maybe I should just delete some of them? Or not? When was the last time someone asked “Remember that email I sent you in 2008?”
This is just wrong and maybe even illegal – herbal tea in a Harley Davidson mug.
At work, I am on this crazy quest to scan 5 stuffed file cabinets of data into the computer before I go to Hawai’i. I am a little over 3/5 of the way done. I seem to enjoy setting these impossible tasks for myself. And no amount of skill, dexterity, or cleverness will make the job go any faster. The limiting factor is the speed of the upload to our “cloud”. Wonder if it would be faster on the weekend? Wonder if I want to go to work on the weekend?
My favorite bus driver – who is my age – says he is going to turn in his notice on Friday and retire. He told me I should retire too. And then he started telling me about all the people who are younger than we are who have died. Yes, I know. On the other hand, if we make it through tomorrow – no one will have died here in two months. When you consider we are 500 old people – 2 months without a celestial change of address is remarkable.
I am still clinging desperately to my “pre-asylum” life. And having a reason to get up, get dressed, and get out of the asylum every morning is an important part of clinging to the before Goodwin House mentality.
Having fun with my “details” fotos. I should redo this one with more DOF.
Not having fun with the prospect of a Trump presidency. But, I also fear the reaction that the Trump supporters will have to a Hillary presidency. Either way, it will be a very unpleasant 4 years.
Kentucky Gov. Matt Bevin says that conservatives may have to turn to physical violence to protect their values.
I want us to be able to fight ideologically, mentally, spiritually, economically, so that we don’t have to do it physically. But that may, in fact, be the case.
Bevin went on to say that he believed the U.S. would survive a Hillary presidency, but it might require bloodshed.
This does not bode well. YOUNG PEOPLE – Put down your phones and take action. I am old. I have way more yesterdays than tomorrows. I can just die. Youth will not have that luxury. Youth will be forced to live through the aftermath/train wreck.
DARK. Very. DARK.
Today’s detail is my Mag(Not So)Safe. The replacement arrived today. Got 4 years out of the first one.
Wonderful Monday. Well as wonderful as Monday can be. Great weather. No problems at work. The MagSafe arrived before I caught the building on fire. Salmon, avocado, bacon, lettuce, tomato, on a great bun for lunch at the asylum. Nice 50 boring minutes of lap swimming.
A friend who is downsizing gave me a heavy old monopod. I think I am going to like it. If I like it a lot – I’ll get a carbon fiber one.
It was early in the morning in Skagway Alaska. Carlton and the Park Superintendent were playing tennis. And, I was doing some side work for Devils Tower National Monument on the computer before heading off to my real job. I was the only seasonal person who had private internet. None of us had TV and there were only two radio stations. (The few people who lived in Skagway year round did satellite TV.) The school principal came by and told Carlton and Bruce what had happened. And, I was watching the Washington Post website where they had a traffic camera pointing at an apparent fire at the Pentagon. I thought that the Washington Post web site had been hacked. In due time, one of the saloons opened up so we could all watch CNN. But, Skagway was and is basically a playground for cruise ship passengers – so, we all suited up and showed up and the show went on.
Sort of a normal old lady Saturday. Still having over 90° days, It was 95 today. And that is really too hot for me to want to hang out outside.
This is a reflective time of year for me, coming up on the 1 year anniversary of my move to the Asylum, the 2nd anniversary of Carlton’s death, the 15 anniversary 911, and the 50th anniversary of my 1st marriage. (Or is it the 51st?) Not to mention the 50th anniversary of Star Trek.
All things considered, it has been a damn good run.
Need to start a little photo exercise. Details maybe?
It is Friday. Happy Hour. A feisty 99 year old – going to be 100 on Oct 3, joined us this evening. Martini straight up – and not one of those frou-frou appletini or lemon drop things either. Now, it might be seriously watered down – but if you make it to 99 wouldn’t you want to be in an asylum where you get a martini and nobody says wouldn’t you rather have a nice glass of prune juice? Chose wisely.
Swam laps for 30 minutes. Nothing exciting. And, that is just fine.
Oh, the shiny Honda wheel – one of the guys who lives in the building still works. He reviews cars. And he parks them in one of our outdoor lots. (And, nope, he doesn’t review Old People Cars for the AARP magazine.)
HOT HOT HOT. But, I found this fine little hairstreak here at the Asylum.
Once again, I am reminded that the heat really knocks me out. My brain says I am just “middle aged” … but my body begs to differ. How exactly did I happen to get old? When did it happen? I didn’t remember ordering “OLD PERSONHOOD” from Amazon.
I did order a new MagSafe connector for the Airness. The Airness is 4 years old – however, I am not jonesing for a new laptop. So, a new MagSafe connector seemed to be in order. The current one is taped up with duct tape. Not elegant. And maybe not even safe.
Feeling hot and tired at the bus stop today. I got stung by a yellow jacket.( No, I wasn’t trying to take it’s picture – yellow jackets are just nasty after Labor Day.) Still at the bus stop – I see a penny on the ground – I pick it up. That penny as just Carlton. Checking up on me. Saying “HI”. And soon, a very well air conditioned bus arrived. And, I was on my way again.
15 ounces, that might be what I have lost since I dialed 911 upon discovering that my jeans don’t meet in the middle. But, 15 ounces is actually what my tax return weighs. When I get the bill, I’ll let you know how much that is per ounce. Trust me, it will not be pretty.
I walked to the accountant’s office from work today and then Ubered home. Best. Uber. Ride. Ever. A genuine limo picked me up. The car was big and black. The driver had coat and tie. It was the Black service for the X pricing. When the driver found out I lived in an old folks asylum he hammed it up on arrival – putting on his hat and hopping out of the car and opening my door. Yes people were watching, even the head of our in-house transportation service. The best $7.01 I ever spent. Thank you Uber. Thank you Luis. Maybe I should put a car service on my speed dial.
Nice dinner with a friend. Yes, Carlton, I do eat dinner with friends. We each ordered take out dinners. I picked them up and my friend supplied the venue, silverware, wine, and peaches for dessert.
Old age isn’t easy. But, if you are lucky, you can share a quiet adult beverage with a friend at your local saloon.
Here it is Tuesday, and no new images. So, how about one from last January in Kona?
Thanks Steve. Now we know that the Electric Fork was indeed a joke, but from the 70’s not the 60’s.
Today, I worked at work. And I worked from home this afternoon. And, I swam laps for 30 minutes. That’s about it.
And this evening – I am so proud of my fellow inmates here at the Asylum. I made it to dinner a little before 7PM. One hour before closing. Well, they were out of beef tenderloin, out of grilled sea bass, out of white wine, out of red wine. Do my housemates know how to eat or what? They were not out of catfish. Nor were they out of pink wine. I settled for souvlaki, fries and beer.
I am pretty sure that the majority of the people who live here are much classier than I am. I know they are more intellectual. They sure know more about wine. But, I got street cred.
Started out the day in the OBC – working from home. Did some “advertising layouts” for our upcoming annual flu shot fest at the hospital. Then, in the afternoon, I did something that you would think I would know not to do – I helped a friend move. (Back in the day that was one of the major don’ts. Right up there with “ordering the seafood combo”, “playing cards with a man named Doc”, etc. etc.)
I think that this little dog deserves to win the Mark Twain award, as in: “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.”
I am not a fan of yeppy little dogs. But, hey, someone buy this guy a small steak.
I was a card carrying member of the Longshoremen’s Union in the late 1960s and early 70s. ILWU Local 142. We didn’t cross picket lines. We “Looked for the Union Label”. And we never ate California table grapes. Wine grapes were OK. But, we mostly drank really crappy local beer, Primo, or San Miguel not wine.
The kapuna did the heavy lifting – the 177 day strike etc. Mahalo Brothers and Sisters. “An injury to one is an injury to all.”
Had the windows open all day. Wore long pants to breakfast. Walked around outside. Now, over 90° weather returns next week. But, today was a treat.
Yesterday, I reviewed my taxes. For the first time in 50+ years I had a CPA do my taxes. I always did my own taxes. In recent years, I have had more than a little help from TurboTax. Carlton always checked the taxes. Figured that some year in the not too distant future – my taxes will be more than I can handle. So, I decided to line up a “guy” to do my taxes and learn to trust the process – before I have to.
So, how did he do? His federal taxes due number was within $22 of mine. His Virginia number saved me $252. There is a part of VA taxes that was just too hard for me to figure out and I always knew I was paying more – so I figured VA wouldn’t care. Well, Dave filled in that blank. “Saving” me $252. (I am sure his bill will be way more than $252).
Note to Carlton: I am pretty sure you don’t approve of me spending money on a tax guy, when I can still do it myself. But, Nobody is promised tomorrow… or that their brain will work tomorrow.
Walked around neighborhood this morning. I decided that it really isn’t so bad. Our Starbucks is like a trip to Kabul in the 1960s. Well, except the men are not allowed to smoke. But, it is a lot like The Raven Saloon in Raiders of the Lost Ark.
And then across the street – The Babylon Futbol Cafe.
This really isn’t a Donald Trump kind of place! Which is a good thing. You can get a damn good bowl of pho and the signs in the Target are in Spanish.