Whatever it is, it…
…doesn’t work
…has to be done over again
…needs a technician to deal with it
…needs my son to wrangle the technician
…is gonna cost an arm and a leg and another arm!
Air-Conditioning Dude just climbed down from damn near an hour on the roof. M’hijito was struggling to get away from his job so he could come down here and wrangle…but…apparently that was not feasible. No sign of the kid, no word from his precincts…oh damn. And now AC Dude needs to move along.
AC Dude is waiting in his truck for the kid to show up. He did say he had some paperwork he needs to do…but after that?????
We also had Plumber Dude in the wings: no sign of him.
Y’know…it looks like my dotage has caught up with me. Seriously: I just no longer can ride herd on workmen and doctors and lawyers and veterinarians and thisses and thattas.
Earlier today, I was thinking…hmmm…. Maybe it’s time for me to sell this house and move into an apartment.
Not fond of apartment living, frankly — been there, done that, and done it and done it and done it and…don’t wanna do it again. But it does have its advantages:
* The landlord deals with repairs and workmen
* Someone else has to be home to intercept those worthies
* Most of the infrastructure repairs are covered by the rent
* You don’t have to hang around all day to meet and greet said workmen
******
At any rate, my Excellent Son arrived soon to wrangle the beloved AC Dude. 😀 Seriously, both men rank among The Best, far’s I’m concerned.
Dear Son knew exactly what to describe to our guy. Bless’im! You don’t even wanna KNOW what I might have said to the fella.
Thanks to the clear instructions, though, AC Dude quickly grasped the problem and in less than an hour, had the thing fixed.
What a job, though! All told, from arrival to exit, it did take him darn a good hour of rassling around.
Y’know, this is one good reason — maybe THE best reason — for me not to sell this house and move into an apartment or some sort of old-folkerie. M’hijito should get this house. It’s just the ticket for him: roomy and handsomely renovated and smack in the middle of a passing tony neighborhood and within walking distance of the lightrail (which will drop you off right in front of the beloved AJ’s Overpriced Grocery Store…) and within walking distance of three major supermarkets. Really….we need to see that he gets the place when I shuffle on down the road.
***
And along those lines, recently I learned that the old folks’ prison called The Beatitudes — just a few miles straight down Main Drag West from my house, and within easy walking distance of M’Hijito’s place — will send people to your home to babysit you!
That is to say: I may be able to get one-on-one oversight, food prep, some drivings-around, and whatnot without having to sign over my freedom to one of those awful jails for the elderly!
Whether they charge a lot more to come to your home and ride herd on you than they do to put you up in old-folks’ prison is yet to be discovered. My father had to fork over everything he got from the sale of his handsome little house in Sun City to get into the gawdawful old-folks’ jail where he consigned himself. So I imagine this supposed service will be similarly pricey.
But if the cost is the same…any day I’d druther be able to stay in my own home than have to move into a noisy, stinky, annoying zoo for the elderly. So: that issue moves to the front burner. It would be hugely reassuring to know I could hire out my end-of-life care, rather than having to move into a “facility.”
Ugh. What a society we live in!
