Cleaning Up After 40 Years

I’m cleaning up after myself.

I’m almost 66 and for the first 20 odd years, I wasn’t stationary long enough to accumulate much shit junk and crap. But by my mid-twenties I found myself hanging on to all the “good stuff” I inherited.

Even without a permanent residence, I found I could store “important” things with my parents, my friends, or in self-storage. Now I have about 1500 sq ft of storage, my friends call it a house, but all I use is one bedroom, a bathroom, the kitchen, and an office. The rest is just a place to store shit.

Because the few friends I have are comfortable enough to just kick the shit off the chair the system has been working pretty well, but now I seem to have developed the need to make the place more livable.

Talk about easier said than done. I opened the closet I use as a pantry and found stuff that I’d had for so long, that it’s probably older than you are.

I’ve been finding things like carpet shampoo when I haven’t had a carpet in over 20 years. And how about a big bottle of wood cleaner? It’s a shame that the only wood in my house is Formica.

Heck, I’ve got three crock pots; who needs three crock-pots?

The 2 or 3-quart unit that I paid ten bucks for at Walmart, is prone to burning the food if there isn’t enough liquid. Then there’s the one with the cracked plastic lid. It’s that lovely avocado green that was so popular in the seventies, and the one my grandmother bought, probably in the nineties, is ceramic with a heavy pyrex lid.

An odd thing about that last unit is that over the years it’s developed a unique beefy aroma. Fortunately, it doesn’t affect the taste of the food.

It’s definitely time to clean house.

I was up til 1 am. this morning sorting and tossing tons of old paperwork. One of the boxes even contained all the receipts from my machine shop.

I thought about it, but couldn’t for the life of me figure out what could possibly be so important that I needed to save a bunch of paper from the early eighties. Oh well, maybe the trash guys can figure it out.

I’ve also been cleaning up my websites. I’ve sent emails to the sites I admin asking permission to fix or delete broken links and to dump a lot of useless crap, and gotten responses from 3 people thanking me because they keep forgetting to do it themselves.

I’ve also deleted something like 45 posts from this site alone and moved my food articles over the “The Smoking Pan.

I’ve used The Smoking Pan domain before, but I didn’t keep up with it. Now that I’m planning on having time on my hands maybe, I’ll finally get all those recipes my mother, grandmother, and the one grandfather scribbled on the first available scrap of paper into a legible form.

And here I’ve been worried about what to do with all my free time.

Maybe I’ll even start posting pictures of my current mess to give myself the incentive to work harder at it.

Life Changes, Whether We Want It To Or Not

Things are changing rapidly, so here’s where I’m at.

I’m forcing myself to adapt, but not without kicking and screaming like a 5 year old in full tantrum.

Currently I work 4 days and get 3 days off -cool, no? But this last few days I find myself sitting at home, staring at the walls, wondering how in the hell I’m going to cope with 7 days off and no money.

So I started a new blog, The Smoking Pan, for recipes and maybe a little food photography. Lord knows I’ve got enough lights, props, and lenses to setup a small studio, so I might as well use some of it.

I’ve also started house cleaning in earnest, and I’m sure I’m going to receive hate mail from the garbage collectors, because I’ve got tons of shit junk and crap that I never got around to doing anything with. Now all those things I was going to fix are cheaper to replace than repair. And the stuff I saved because I might need it some day is getting under foot.

I’m also going to dump a lot of posts from RCNevada. (this blog). Maybe this will allow me to get organized, probably not, but it’s worth a try. And all those whiny posts are starting to annoy me beyond what I’m willing to tolerate.

I know I need to get out of the house or I’ll wind up one of those cranky old hermits who forgets to bath and goes around talking to himself. So, I bought a pair of very light weight hiking boots and plan on forcing myself to get my happy ass out and about.
propet hinking boot
These are a pair of Propet Ridge Walker Hiking Boots.

They run narrow so I went from a 4e to a 5e and so far they don’t feel too bad. Of course today is the first day I’ve worn them so I won’t know for sure until late tomorrow. You’ve got to find out what happens when your feet swell, and trust me, they will. Especially when you’re hiking.

So here’s the plan: I force myself to get up early and get out and get back home before the temperature hits shake and bake. Then when I get back I start painting the bathrooms, and so on.

In the meantime a friend just offered me a job watching surveillance video, which sounds about as much fun as watching paint dry. But, it’s money in my pocket and someplace to go so I’m thinking about it.

Life goes on.

Elvis Lives, If Only at Walmart

Elvis lives, at the Walmart superstore on Nellis and Boulder, Hwy. in Las Vegas. Because it’s the local training center for Walmart managers, every so often they have a graduation celebration.

This is how they party at Walmart.
Elvis, Walmart, and Showgirls

They also had an Elvis impersonator, but the eye-candy was a hell of a lot more interesting.

I didn’t see an open bar so I guess the best these FNGs could hope for was some decent cake and a short party. I mean, just how much Elvis can you sit through while remaining sober?

With Elvis the pelvis falling out of favor everywhere but wedding chapels, I bet the impersonator was glad to get the gig.

Just to remind you that Elvis will be around for a while, here’s a picture I took at a local gas station.
Elvis and his pink Chevy
I love that pink –not my favorite color, but still cool– Chevy. It’d look even cooler without all those teddy bears in the back window.

Pioneer Loan and Jewelry Has Been Sold

Pioneer Loan and Jewelry has been sold to Easy Pawn. Just the location and inventory, not the name.

I’m not sure of the exact date, but it’ll be final within the next week or so and I’m already wondering what to do next. I’m almost 66, and social security is only going to pay me 1/2 of what I make now. But I really don’t want to go to work for a big corporation. No specific reason, I just don’t want to.

Looking around, I figure I’ve got maybe a month and a half worth of work on my house and then I start staring at the walls. –Not good.

People tell me to take a vacation, but there’s nowhere I want to go that I can afford. I’ve already seen a large part of the world, and all costs aside, the rest doesn’t interest me enough to go through the hassles of packing, making sure the house is watched, then arranging flights and hotel rooms.

A year ago, I was going to take some time and go back to Haifa for a week or so. At least that was the plan, until I found out if was 20 some hours on the plane. –Fuck that! I hate long flights, I’ve taken them before and my butt and my back always wound up hurting because the seats are designed for jockeys, and that was before I developed neuropathy in both feet.

Maybe I’ll take a few days and go camping someplace green and quiet to think things over. Or maybe I’ll go with plan B and become a hermit.

I’ve said it before, but it’s worth repeating. I don’t know how in the Hell I got to be this old and I’m not prepared to change. On top of that I spent what little savings I had paying off my house -one of the few good ideas I’ve ever had. But I made no plans to retire, no savings bonds, no money stashed, no 401 to fall back on, etc.

So here I sit, a little depressed, looking confused and kinda lost.

Fuck it! I’ve survived this long, so I guess I’ll just keep moving until I can’t any more.

Hanging With Old Folks

I’ve got to quit hanging out with old folks.

I just shut down selectivelysocial.com because the guy had a heart attack last night and isn’t going to need it anymore. -At least not until I start believing in ghosts.

He was feeling fine, he went to bed and he didn’t wake up. –I suppose that’s a better way to go than most, but it sure upset his wife.

I’d only known him for 20 odd years and in spite of the fact that we only talked whenever we ran in to each other, which could be only every couple of months, I’m going to miss him.

It’s funny that only seeing each other few times a year didn’t bother either of us, but his wife, being a lot more social, kept trying to get us to do more things together. Sometimes it worked, but mostly these things involved dealing with people we didn’t know, so most times it didn’t.

I had another dude I’ve known for 10+ years stop by this morning, he’s only about five years older than me, but his hearing is going and I have to remember to remind him what we were talking about just a few minutes ago. He’s not senile, but he’s easily distracted, and he’s starting to have trouble concentrating.

He’s still alert and aware of everything going on around him, but knowing he has a concealed weapons permit is starting to be a little worrisome.

And of course there’s the other worries that come with age.

My stepfather was in his early eighties when he developed Alzheimer’s. In less than a year he went from sharp as a tack to asking where his late wife was. And as I get older I’m not sure which bothers me more; the thought of dealing with someone who has it or the fear that it might happen to me.

All told, the biggest problem for me, is not just that I’m tired of burying friends. It’s watching them deteriorate, mentally and physically before they go.

So, I’ll try to remember the good times and force a smile through the inevitable depression, until it’s my turn.