life in the old lane

I decided to go north because the southern terminus is Tijuana. And, I didn’t think I was up to that.

After a stop for coffee and some people watching. I start back to the hotel.

 

Today was Zoo Day. A trip to the zoo was 11,899 steps. So. That’s it for today for me. But it was a fine day at the zoo. Fantastic weather. And October is kids get in free month. So the zoo was stuffed with school groups. And what’s the zoo for if not kiddos? Normally the admission is $62 for kids. And $72 for adults.

I am not a good zoo-goer. I sort of wander aimlessly around and look at whatever I blunder upon. The only exceptional critter I saw today was a couple of Tasmanian Devils. Chasing each other around their enclosure. They didn’t look all that dangerous. But definitely strange in a demented way. No pictures. Sorry.

And yes, they were blazing construction cone orange in color.

But, this was the best. I loved floating over the zoo in my own private open-air gondola like some lazy queen of the zoo. 

And before 1PM West Coast Time, I was safely installed in my hotel.

It’s a standard boutiquey hotel. Location is great — one block from the city bus that goes to the airport for $2.50 every ten minutes, and about three blocks from the ocean.

Being this close to the docks, I wandered that way.

I stopped to admire the old girl. Like me, she had a long and interesting run.

Long about 5PM East Coast time, I was starved. Fortunately, there was a restaurant handy.

Now my mission is simply to stay awake until 7 PM. That’s two and a half hours from now. My legs refuse further duty — maybe I can convince them to make it as far as the lobby espresso machine.

And I did not do anything to reduce my wrinkles or sags.

Finished up packing.

All that’s left to do is to charge up all the gear and get downstairs at 0700 hours tomorrow to catch my ride to the airport.

ChatGPT assures me that TSA and ATC will probably be working tomorrow — but offers no guarantees about Oct 31 when I fly from San Diego to Kona. Worrying about that now falls under “wreckage of the future,” which Carlton had a strict ban on.

At this instant, I have plans for the garden box next year. Will see if the plans (and the plants and I)  last until spring. I have had the box for 10 years and the sage plant came with the box. And, Ray the Rosemary has been mine for at least 5 years. Well, seems that Ray died in December 2017 so, I must have gotten his rosemary bush in the spring of 2018. And, it must have been around for some years before that.

That’s it from The Asylum until after Xmas.
Next Stop: San Diego.

Got serious about the upcoming trek to Hawai’i and beyond today. My luggage weighs 16 pounds. That’s one pound over my limit. However, I am unsure what I am willing to give up.

I wanted to give my garden box a really good soaking. While the hose was running, I took some pictures of summer’s end.

An interesting Birthday Day.

For starters, the Asylum is 38 years old. That’s well past the “best if used by date” for elevators! But the building is surviving pretty well.

And so are the residents.

Dick is a couple of months shy of 100. And he has lived here almost ⅓ of his life. That is something that many of us fail to recognize when we move in. Yes, this is our “forever home”. Yes, we expect to die here and may actually have moved in to simplify our final exit. We fail to recognize that we might be residents of the Asylum for a very long time.

BTW: Dick’s secret to long life: Just keep breathing.

It’s another birthday, and all eight of us are still here. Still in reasonable shape for our age. What a great and unexpected blessing this is.

It is inevitable that one birthday in the future, there will no longer be 8 at the table. That will be unbelievably sad. But there will also be gratitude for all the laughs, support, and love that we shared.

There was a lovely cake and 2 kinds of ice cream. Plus lots of good endorphin-releasing chatter about “weighted cows”.

The 2025 Batworks is done. The bats are easy and fun to make. But, old eyes and old fingers are challenged by needles and fine black thread.

The main task today was to vote.

En route to the bus stop, I see a cloud of smoke. WTF?

Mistook a mechanic for fascism — an honest mistake in 2025.

Hopped on the bus for a quick ride out to what I call the Police Station. I think they call themselves a “Government Center”. Everything was fully operational. No waiting. I was planning on Ubering back to The Asylum, but my app said that the bus was only one light away. Seemed silly to pay more and wait longer for Uber.

People, we gotta vote. 
Even in the off-year elections. 
Even if our candidate has no chance of winning. 
Even if we hate all the candidates. 
Even if we think our vote doesn't count. 
If we don't vote, for sure it doesn't count.

My watch said it was time for a nice brisk walk today. For once I agreed with my watch.  So, off I went. 

Pondered the demolition of the East Wing of the White House as I walked. That helped get my heart rate up out of the “moderate” range. Guess I could hop on the bus and go see the desecration with my own eyes. But I don’t think my cardiovascular system could stand the stress. 

A foundling orchid bloomed today — always a surprise and always a small win.

Meanwhile, he blew up another boat and killed two more people. We have to stop our government — and soon. I’ll go vote tomorrow. Might be the last time I’m allowed to.

For tonight, I’m sticking with the orchids. I’ve apparently become my grandmother — except her fixation was African violets.

At this age, you learn to admire small blooms while Rome burns — multitasking for the apocalypse.

Decided to get serious about what to take on this upcoming insane trip: fall → tropical → winter, with a very strange plane ride wedged in the middle.

You’re in more trouble when you walk to REI and inspect bigger backpacks. Not a smart move at 80+.  I am getting weaker by the day. Not stronger. I walked back home from REI empty-handed. Everything will fit into my trusty 25-liter pack. I will mail all the “tropical” clothes back to the Asylum from Kona.

Backpack: 15 pounds. Not an ounce more.
They sell clothes in Kona and Tokyo.

Funny day today. Mostly ’cause AWS has a hangover. Heck, I had to turn my lights and coffee pot on and off myself. How 3rd world is that? I couldn’t even pay for my January cruise or select a seat on a flight to Honolulu. What’s a person to do?

I did sneak a peek at the stats on my Seditious Elders video. Mildly smug to have had over 200 views. I tell myself, “it doesn’t matter”. But myself knows. Bigger numbers are better. Even if one isn’t an “influencer”.

How could anyone aspire to be an “influencer”? Just 21st-century snake oil salespeople.

Ain’t AI grand? Early yesterday morning, I encountered a fluffy fox on the Wilderness trail. (I know, it could be better. But I was too lazy to put the leaves back in place,)

By this time next week, I should be in San Diego. AWS willing;

Honor the old folks who were making good trouble. Watch in full screen. Thanks! — Your Elderly Photographer.

And the seditious old folks at The Asylum organized a fine No Kings Rally.

I am too tired of my 300+ photos and my computer to do any more tonight.Down from 313 to 63. Aiming for 55 before I start a slide show. People will only watch for so long.

But, here are some rushes.