Lightning May Strike ~ Early Evening Thoughts

I have been invited out for the evening. As one of my friends put it when the invitation was made: "Uh, WD ~ that's a date." So, I am attempting to get ready for a ... um, uh ... date. Do they really call it that at my age? I will provide details later ~ possibly MUCH later. (So Bodhi, you might have to wait!!)

Was it out of the blue? Yes. Was it a delightful surprise? Yes. Am I prepared? No. Will I have a good time? Who knows ~ but knowing me, there will be some stories to go with it.

In the mean time, I am prepared for a delightful evening ~ with someone I know, and have known as an acquaintance for some time now.

What will we do? It's not my evening to plan. Will I let you know all the details? That depends.

---more tomorrow

Aging Rambo (Complex Tales) ~ Early Evening Thoughts

As much as I enjoy getting out and doing ~ sometimes, with my knees it can turn into an adventure. I usually in the grocery store get one of those electric carts and enjoy terrorizing doing the aisles and getting what I need. I even use them at what are called the "box stores"...large over filled and over crowded stores with the very recognizable name(s).

The other day I went on a new adventure ~ a home improvement box store. I decided upfront that I would use the electric cart and enjoy the ride. The person I was shopping with decided that my cart would be an excellent repository for various items being purchased for our two complexes.

The screwdrivers, drill bits and such I didn't mind. However, the sections of wood began to present a bit of a problem ...and then there was the boiler pipe. A nice, round L O N G piece of pipe. I had that balanced on one shoulder, and had some ability to steer with the other hand. I'm sure it was quite a sight.

Then, I saw him ~ the "kid." You know the ones in the store - totally bored, trying to stay out of trouble, but looking for something/anything to liven up the day.

Then, he saw me. The one with the large metal pipe leaning on his shoulder, in a cart that could only move at a certain speed.

The following account is absolutely true. (thank heavens there were no video cameras!)

Our eyes met and there was an instantaneous silent agreement. There was a slight nod from him, and a narrowing of the eyes from me. I moved my cart into position.

He ducked behind a handy display ~ but I was ready.

I raised the boiler vent pipe to shoulder level and waited. There were two sales people that stopped, turned and looked. I waited . . . A pair of eyes took a quick glance from behind the display and then he made a run for it.

I didn't do anything, the timing wasn't just right. Again, he took a quick glance and made a mad dash for the hand tools section. I fired (loudly, I might add) ...once then once again ... each time taking careful aim with my rocket launcher. He took a direct hit from the second shot...and fell gloriously, noisily and with great dramatic effect in the middle of the floor.

At this point (to quote someone) the parental unit attached entered the picture. I think he would have liked to be upset, but with several sales people and customers laughing and his child unit dusting himself off ...it would have been very hard to be upset.

Understand that during this entire time not one word had been exchanged. I took a last look at him, smiled ...blew on my fingernails and dusted them on my shirt. He gave me an enormous grin and a thumbs up sign.

I went on my electrified way to find the friend I was shopping with, he went with the parental unit to check out and everyone went back to doing what they had been doing before all this happened. I certainly felt better - I hoped that he felt better about the day. My friend, totally oblivious that a major motion picture scene had just been filmed, apologized for taking so long to find something.

Complex Tales Or Flip The Switch Henry! ~ Early Evening Thoughts

The finals of the "it was a dark and stormy night" for this year have been announced and will be posted tomorrow night probably... (thanks EB for the heads-up)...Today was my own "dark and stormy", or so I thought. Along with the usual phones, people, a boss wanting to micro-manage, demands on time and energy - I had my personal SWAT team here today (again with the vice-grip handshake!).

They really worked very hard to get a lot of things accomplished. There was much noise of maintenance happening ~ a lovely sound I haven't been able to hear for awhile! I also went with them (at their invitation since I was the one with petty cash!) to purchase some of the needed materials.

While on the way back from the trip/expedition I got a phone call from a restricted number. When I answered it, a woman simply started the conversation with: "This IS the ________ apartments, right?" I answered in the affirmative. "And you DO have an apartment XXX, right?" Again, I answered in the affirmative. "And you ARE at __________________, right?" Once more (with little feeling) I answered in the affirmative. "We'll be out," was her response as she hung up.

I have to admit there was a sinking feeling of my heart heading for my shoes, and my stomach heading out my back. In all honesty, I inherited a complex (as I've indicated) that has suffered from severe managerial neglect (for lack of a better or more politically correct term) ~ and by taking on this inheritance, I also have inherited the possibility of some consequences from the city. I now made the assumption that the call was from one of the city departments (correct assumption) about to do an inspection (wrong assumption).

By the time we arrived back at the complex, I had developed a somewhat plausible plan of action. However, when I sat down at my desk, the phone rang again. This time it was a person who nicely identified themselves as someone from CPS (child protective services) who wanted to know if I had received a call from a parole officer about one of my apartments. Now, I know the person who lives in the apartment in question ~ which is directly above mine. The thought that they might be on parole was indeed laughable. Then ~ as Paul Harvey would say: "The rest of the story..."

It seems this "lady" with six (yes, six!!!) children had given her parole officer my complex and one of my apartment numbers as her address. This "lady" was on the "run" and they were trying to find her. At the end of what I would call a good bridge building conversation, the person made the statement: "Aren't you glad we called rather than just showing up with police and all?" To which I had to agree. What I didn't tell them was the image that ran through my mind at that moment, was a montage from several silent movies ... that was best left unsaid.

The day carried on from there ~ and made me think my mind was beginning to turn to mush by about 4pm. And it was around that time I heard someone else's mind beginning to turn to mush ~ or close to it. My vice-grip handshake friend was having real difficulty with something that should have been simple...even for me. (No snickering or sniggering behind your hands, please!!) The light fixture in the laundry room needed to be changed out. A new, improved one had just been purchased and was being installed.

I was watching the miracle of electricity being installed when I was interrupted by a tenant who took literally five minutes to tell me someone needed to clean up in parking slot 5. (Clean up in aisle four!) I kid you not -- FIVE minutes. I had to interrupt watching to go on poop detail in front of the complex. All I will say, that was one healthy dog!

I thought when I got back, I would see the wonder of light in the laundry room ~ which had been absent for awhile. Unfortunately, there was no power to the light or the light switch. Everything else in the room was working as it should. My vice-grip handshake friend was reduced to vague mutters about ~ well, I'm not sure what they were about, but I have a feeling various people's (possibly mine) ancestries were being called into question.

The two of us went through various scenarios, ideas and thoughts. We both prodded, poked and twisted various things to see if they would work. At one point, vice-grip handshake went and purchased a new circle fluorescent bulb to see if that was the problem.

Finally, about the third time we were tearing apart the light switch, it hit me. The breakers. Off to the electrical box ~ some choice words on my part now and definitely an ancestry called into question. I had posted about the maintenance man who is no longer here due to getting in between two people who were arguing - and both people turned on him. He had the key to the locks on those boxes.

Fortunately, vice-grip handshake and those accompanying him have great experience in drilling locks - and in moments we were into the box and checking the breakers. There it was, the one switch on the top. A slight flick of the switch, and there was now power in the laundry room, joy in my heart and vice-grip handshake realized that I might be mature - but I'm NOT dead!!

All in all, a satisfying day.

As I was posting this tonight, I was reminded of a Lewis Carroll poem I once earned three dollars from my parents for memorizing at a very young age...

I'll leave you with that poem tonight:

You Are Old, Father William

"You are old, father William," the young man said,
"And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head--
Do you think, at your age, it is right?"

"In my youth," father William replied to his son,
"I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again."

"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
And you have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door--
Pray what is the reason for that?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
"I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment - one shilling a box--
Allow me to sell you a couple?"

"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak--
Pray, how did you manage to do it?"

"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life."

"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose--
What made you so awfully clever?"

"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
Said his father. "Don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs.

---more tomorrow
should be able to post pictures this weekend!!!

Out Of The Pun, Into The Fire ~ Early Evening Thoughts

(update 8-19-2007) I received a delightful e-mail giving me authorship information on the 2003 winner Gary Roma of http://www.ironfrog.com/. He will be publishing a book soon of his stories, including Love Letters. Thanks Gary for bringing me up to speed.
----

Each year, in Austin TX. there is an O.Henry "pun-off" where contestants compete to win the best of that years puns. While this years winners have yet to be punsted posted I did find some rather delightful puns and stories from previous years.

I posted some winners of the actual contest before, but these were voted on by the Save The Pun Foundation members as best stressed puns.

from Best Stressed Puns of 2004.

Ascent..An aroma.
Brisket..To speed something up.
Castrate..To evaluate all the actors in a movie or play.
Dollop..To dress up attractively.
Exposed..A retired model.
Forthcoming..Three visits weren't enough.
Germination..The birthplace of Beethoven.
Hi-fidelity..A devoted couple.
Institute..A spontaneous session of wind and brass instruments.
Logarithm..Tapping out the beat of a tune on a tree trunk.

From 2003: Love Letters by Gary Roma - see updated version --->HERE<---

Words are just lucky letters. How do letters get lucky? They go to bars. Let's listen:

A consonant goes into a bar and sits down next to a vowel.
"Hi!" he says, "Have you ever been here before?"
"Of cursive," she replies, "I come here, like, all the time"
He can tell from her accent (which is kind acute) that she is a Vowelly Girl. He looks her over. She's short and has a nice assonance.
She sure is a cipher sore I's, thinks this consonantal dude. He remains stationery, enveloped by her charm. "And what an uppercase!" His initial reaction is so pronounced, he doesn't know what to say. He is, at present, tense. Admiring her figure of speech, he falls into a fantasy.
He pictures a perfect wedding: They exchange wedding vowels.
The minister says, "I now pronouns you man and wife."
They kiss each other on the ellipsis. "I love you, noun forever," he whispers. The conjugation is in tiers. In a word, they are wed.
He awakens from his daydream and proposes a dance, but she declines.
Ferment there, she looks like she's going to bee [sic].
"Gee, are you okay?" he asks her.
"I'm, like, under a lot of stress ... I've got a yeast inflection."
"I knew something was brewing."
He calls the bartender. "Listen, bud, my beer is warm."
The bartender takes the bottle and empties it in the sink.
The dude watches as his hops go down the drain.
"Let's go outside," he says to her. "I'd like to have a word with you."
"Are you prepositioning me?"
"I won't be indirect. You are the object of my preposition."
"Oh my God, you're, like, such a boldfaced character!"
"I see your point. But I'm font of you. C'mon let's go."
"Do I have to spell it out? You're not my type, so get off my case.
Reluctantly, he decides to letter B. "Now my evening lies in runes," he laments. He leaves, hoping to have letter luck next time.

And last (but not least) from 2001:

The Peter Pan club? Never. Never.

The quarterback club? I'll pass.

The compulsive rhymers club? Okey‑dokey.

The Spanish optometrists club? Si.

The pregnancy club? That's conceivable.

The Self‑Esteem Builders club? They probably won't accept me.

The Agoraphobics Society? Only if they meet at my house.

And Then They Arrived ~ Early Evening Thoughts

It would be nice to be managing a larger complex, I decided on Wednesday. My frustration level was almost at optimum, and I was waiting for maintenance to happen. Most large complexes have their own dedicated (to the complex ~ I won't deal with how dedicated to work they are!) people that are supposed to accomplish miracles in a short space of time.

I had been waiting for some not-so-minor things to be accomplished. Waiting, waiting, waiting. It was much as the furniture story I posted the other day. This time, however, there were no fingernails to chew...they were gone. There was no one to yell at ~ well, no one who was part of the solution to the problem anyway.

Finally, I pulled in the "big gun" and made a phone call. To who will remain behind a discretionary curtain - but needless to say, help was promised within the hour. Now, we all know how that can go ~ one hour stretches into three or four and then into a day. I was prepared. Within the hour, as I was standing outside getting some air...a truck pulled up and it was reminiscent of a cop movie. Four burly guys flew out of the truck, one charged up to me ~ put out his hand. He shook mine in a vice-like grip, asked what needed to be done now and as I was stammering my response (yes, my hand hurt!) they were off on their missions.

I have since dubbed these folks my personal SWAT team. They accomplished in two hours (!!) what had not been accomplished in two days. I would have done a victory dance, but was afraid I'd fall in the bushes or the street ~ so I admirably restrained myself.

Today they were put to the test. I had three drains in three apartments that were backing up and overflowing...not a good sign. The SWAT team were dealing with issues at three complexes, but assured me they would be here today to get more magic done.

I should have simply trusted them - but ... so, when they weren't here in the morning, I started trying to find out what was going on. It's not as if there weren't other things that needed attention, but I was getting some/most/a little of those done as the day went on its merry pace.

It was now afternoon. And one of my more delightful (sort-of) tenants was coming into the office at increasingly shorter intervals to let me know that 1) no one had arrived yet and 2) the water was still backing up and 3) to give me a running tally of how many "buckets" he had taken from the sink and dumped in the toilet.

Of course, there were the usual phone calls, tenants and prospective tenants sandwiched in around getting paper work done (remember, in a weekly rental apartment I do everything I had a month to do before in 5 days...and then get the privilege of doing it all over again the next week!).

Finally, I was making phone calls at increasingly shorter intervals to find out what ~ if anything ~ was going to happen.

4:14pm came around and my SWAT team arrived...this time with only three members. There was the same exit from the truck as before, the same bone crunching handshake ... and they piled into the work. And by the time I left for awhile at the end of my day, they had accomplished all they set out to do, and all that I needed them to do. A good feeling.

Now, I'm not sure what the tenant is going to do tomorrow without a reason to come in and give me reports ~ but perhaps (given his ...ahem...advanced age...more than mine) he'll spend the day recovering.

As for me? Tomorrow brings new challenges, ideas and keeping up with what needs to be done.

I don't get the SWAT team back until Wednesday ~ but that is alright, as I can rest comfortably in the knowledge they will be here and will get things accomplished!!

Maybe I better watch out - they might start doing my job as well ... Now that's a thought ~

--I'm still unable to publish pictures ... hopefully in the next few days ...