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funny

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The Weirdness of People

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Okay, here’s the Question of the Day:

Why would somebody steal a bag of clothespins?

Old clothespins, for that matter? The thing has been hanging out there for YEARS, probably since I moved into this house, and nobody has ever bothered with it.

This morning I stumble out into the rain and find, there on the covered side porch, that the bag of clothespins that’s hung — yes, for years — from the covered porch’s little laundry line is GONE.

* No, it’s not in the garage
* No, it’s not on the back porch
* No, it’s not anywhere in the house

So…presumably, some yard guy or repairman stole it. A bag of clothespins. Can you imagine?

What possesses people? Forgodsake! A package of 50 only costs about $6.00 from Amazon. Presumably they’re cheaper in a local grocery store or dime store that doesn’t have to ship them to you.

****

WHOA! Just found a brand-new package of classic wooden clothespins, sitting in the garage.

Certainly wouldn’t want a morning to pass without some stupid PITA, eh? 😀

Ahhh, decrepitude!  What fun gettin’ old is!!!

Says a lot about my own senility: that I didn’t even remember I’d had to buy a whole new package of clothespins!  And if that ain’t scary, I’d sure like to know what is….

Also says a lot about people: What kind of jerk steals a bag of clothespins off a backyard clothesline?

Can you imagine? Now I’ll have to stash this new trove in the garage…they cannot be left to hang on the porch clothesline.

So. Now that we know I can’t leave clothespins on the clothesline, we need to find someplace to keep this recovered bonanza. Dayum! What a nuisance.

They’ll have to go in a box on top of the dryer in the garage, I guess. Thereby taking up space normally occupied by laundry detergent and bleach and whatnot.

*****

Disturbing.
Seven Ways from Sunday!

Lovely Sodden Walk!

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Ohhh, my goodness!  It’s SOOO HUMID out there — hideously reminiscent of sodden, ugly Saudi Arabia — that after a few blocks of idle strolling through the morning doggy-walk, I came back to the Funny Farm absolutely DRENCHED!

Drenched in sweat? Drenched in dew from the humidity?

Dunno. All I know is it’s hot, it’s wet, and I’m soaked from head to foot.

Walked past our new  friend Josie’s house: she of the recent homeowner’s disaster. She’s the one who moved into SDXB’s house after he moved to Sun City: the county actually gave it to her! It’s a very nice house…or…uhm…it was. As we passed, we saw all the carpeting pulled out and dumped, higgledy-piggledy, in the yard.

Yeah. A pipe under the kitchen sink sprang a leak. By the time Josie noticed it, water had POURED out and flooded the kitchen the  laundry room, the dining room, and the living room.

Basically, the house was ruined.

Presumably, though, Big Brother in all His taxpayer-funded generosity will cover the repairs. Sure hope Our Benefactors will buy her some new carpeting, too.

***

This sort of thing leads me to wonder, every time some such fiasco occurs, if I should move somewhere else. Maybe where the houses are newer, or at least not so cheaply built? Maybe someplace further away from a dangerous, crime-ridden slum?

I dunno. Unless you decamp to Scottsdale, Fountain Hills, or Sun City, anywhere in Maricopa County is gonna bring you elbow-to-elbow with the high-crime set. And frankly….I’m just too lazy to pack up a four-bedroom shack and move 20 or 30 miles across the Valley. Nor do I want to end up that far from my son.

Yet…yeah, maybe I really should. 

But where would I go that I could afford and that would also take me away from the High Drama? And how, after all, could one live through the boredom without Tony the Romanian Landlord, all our pet burglars, the drag races six blocks to the north, the oglers and the rapists in the central park,…seriously! How boring!

No, as long as M’hijito stays in Central Phoenix, I’ll probably keep this shack. It IS a nice place, after all, with a gorgeous pool and overall pleasant neighbors and public transit coming out the wazoo and an outstanding regional hospital within walking distance. In many ways, it’s actually better than any other place I’ve ever lived.

{Bellyache Bellyache…}

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Migawd, those poor people who have to work outside in this UNHOLY heat and humidity. This morning it’s a swamp out there. And yeah, that’s the only way to describe it.

But as Ruby and I swam around the block through the soggy air, we came across one yard dude after another slamming around in this heat: pushing lawnmowers (or, if they were lucky, riding them), through heat and humidity thick enough float in. Horrible, horrible morning.

Walk in the door at 7:30 a.m. Ringy dingy ringy dingy ringy dingy…. Goddam phone solicitor!

Me to A**-hole, at high volume: GET OFF MY PHONE AND STAY OFF MY GOD-DAMNED PHONE!!!!!!

God, how I hate that. Really, I should disconnect the phone when I go to bed at night. But I’m afraid if some emergency comes up, M’hijito won’t be able to reach me. Or I may not be able to reach him.

Phone soliciting, though, really should be illegal. In these parts, though: far from it. Here, it’s a prison industry.

No kidding. When your phone jangles with a nuisance call, chances are there’s a convict on the other end of the line.

Even if he or she weren’t serving a term for some fun crime, I’d still rather not talk with them. Especially not over the phone. Especially not at 7:00 in the morning!

{Pant} {GLUB} {Pant}!!!!

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😀  My goodness! The boggle minds!!!  

Stupidly, along about 2:30 in the afternoon I imagined I could stroll out for a short walk around the block.

Can you spell DUMB AS A POST?
How about CRAZY AS A LOON?
Or maybe WHERE DID YOU LEAVE YOUR MARBLES?

😀

Honestly: what was I thinking?

Not only is it hotter than the Hubs — 107 degrees, saith Wunderground, with the caveat that it “feels like 110” — it’s freaking humid. No kidding: 21% of that air you’re puffing in is water!

Feels like an obscene summer day in (un)lovely Saudi Arabia, on whose sands I grew up next to the Persian Gulf.

****

This place is just AWFUL in the summertime. That would be why anyone who can afford it takes off for far venues during July and August.

But most people here can’t. I sure can’t. So you suffer through two months(+) of unmitigated Hell.

Truly: if my son weren’t here, I’d be LONG gone. Once my parents both passed, I’d have shot back to California like the proverbial rocket.

But I’m surely not about to take off for distant parts and leave him behind. My parents dragged me here; he was born here and raised here, and now his career and personal life are here. Nothing is left for me in California. Everything is left for me in Arizona.

So as long as that dude is here, I’m here.

Lucky him, eh?

***

There are folks who come here for just the fall, winter, and part of the spring. Most of them are retirees: people who don’t have to stay in x or y venue for a job. And it is very pleasant during those seasons.

Not so much in the summer, though!

***

Do I wish my parents had never come here, never dragging me with them?

To a degree, yes.

I would have much better opportunities had I been able to stay in California. At the time they dragged me here and dumped me at the University of Arizona (in Tucson), I was all set up to go to UC Berkeley.

And oh, how I wanted to go to Berkeley! Even just an undergraduate degree would have opened so many doors for me. And that’s to say nothing of the Ph.D. that I eventually landed. Imagine where you could go with a Ph.D. from UC Berkeley!

A far piece from freakin’ Tucson, that’s for sure!

So…I can’t say I hate it here. Or even dislike it. Just that it wouldn’t have been my first choice of places to spend my adult life.

Roarrr! Not to say “Question Mark?”

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Gerardo’s amazing crew of yard dudes showed up as I was in the middle of scribbling this post. And somehow in the course of chatting with him, I contrived to lose the entire draft.

Wonnerful.

How DO those guys manage to do their job in this ungodly climate? As we scribble, the sky is overcast and the thermometer on the back porch reads a hundred degrees. Our boys are out there roaring around like tractors!

Migawd. I can barely stumble out the back door into that heat. Much less push lawn equipment back and forth and haul away huge bags of debris.

Jeez. It’s already 11:30. I’m so tired I can barely hold my head up. Why is unknown. But M’hijito is supposed to come over for dinner tonight — a gorgeous steak awaits him in the fridge. So…prob’ly I should try to sneak a nap in, so I can stay awake through his visit.

What DOES it all mean, anyway????

Here in the Hubs of Hades…

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Actually, it’s hotter than the hubs out there just now. At 10 in the morning it’s 101º in what should be the shade of the back porch. But there’s no shade: the sky is overcast. So everything is sorta…gray.

Steamy gray.

Truth to tell, I like a gray day…if it’s in San Francisco.

Hereabouts: not so much. Our “gray day” resembles the inside of an oven.

Ruby and I opted the morning doggy-walk. Even at 7:00 in the morning, it was soggy enough and hot enough to extinguish the Human.

Ahh, but it does lead you to count your blessings. Think of all the jobs you don’t have, for example.

  • You’re not digging a trench across an excavated roadway.
  • You’re not driving a delivery truck: one that has no air conditioning and no windows or passenger doors.
  • You don’t work in a service station. (Or do you?)
  • You’re not walking dogs for your neighbors.
  • You don’t dock tankers at a pier.
  • You don’t mow lawns.
  • You don’t herd small children around a preschool playground
  • On and on….

 Seriously: today is an awful day. As ugly and as uncomfortable as I can remember, this side of unlovely Ras Tanura, the unholy oil camp where I grew up by the shore of the Persian Gulf.

At least hereabouts we can be confident that the air will cool down a bit over the next week or so. Or at least dry out!

M’hijito is supposed to come over for dinner tonight. I sure don’t want to go out in that swamp for a grocery expedition. Hmmmm….

Well, we have a VERY nice steak in the fridge.

***

Huh!

Yesterday I was feeling awful. Actually asked my son to tote me out to the Mayo today.

This morning, whatever that was is totally gone. 

Can’t even imagine what ailed me. But whatever it was, I’m mighty glad to be rid of it.

Weird!