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.

COVFEFE Act Introduced

Well, like it or not, President Trump has found his place in history. He’ll be forever remembered, not for his policies, but for a late night mis-tweet.

The non-word “COVFEFE” is likely to be written into the law.

U.S. Representative Mike Quigley (IL-05), co-founder and co-chair of the Congressional Transparency Caucus, introduced the Communications Over Various Feeds Electronically for Engagement or “COVFEFE” Act. This bill codifies vital guidance from the National Archives by amending the Presidential Records Act to include the term “social media” as a documentary material, ensuring additional preservation of presidential communication and statements while promoting government accountability and transparency.
“In order to maintain public trust in government, elected officials must answer for what they do and say; this includes 140-character tweets,” said Rep. Quigley. “President Trump’s frequent, unfiltered use of his personal Twitter account as a means of official communication is unprecedented. If the President is going to take to social media to make sudden public policy proclamations, we must ensure that these statements are documented and preserved for future reference. Tweets are powerful, and the President must be held accountable for every post.”

White House press secretary Sean Spicer said: “The President is the President of the United States, so they’re considered official statements by the President of the United States,”

Yes, we may incorporate @realDonaldTrump’s tweets about the ban into our Supreme Court argument.
— ACLU National (@ACLU) June 5, 2017

First I had automatically assumed that any statements made by the president that are not private are archived. –I guess I was wrong.

But why should the format matter? These are addressed to the general public, so why aren’t they preserved for future reference?

I had a long post outlined, but fact checking and dealing with all the political BS is literally giving me a headache.

So, Fuck ’em all!!!! and goodnight.

Something To Do and Living on a Budget

I’m trying to find something to do when I’m living on Social Security. (Mary, mother of God, that makes me feel old.)

To that end, I’ve picked up an amazing amount shit junk and crap over the years, intending to use it “later.”

I bought this little unimat lathe to make models, and I used it once.
Unimat Lathe in wooden box

I bought this book on stringing pearls just because one of the girls at work restrung some pearls for the boss, and I hate to have someone else knowing how to do something simple when I can’t.
pearl stringing book
Yup, I can now string pearls. And this is useful why? I don’t even like pearls, much less enjoy sitting for hours stringing them. -Patience is never going to be my strongest attribute.

Of course the pearl book led to my buying a bunch of other jewelry shit.
bead and wire art jewelry bookjeweler's hammersjewelry wire looperjewelry thingamajig
It’s all “good shit,” but only if you’re going to use it, and somehow I doubt that I’ll ever become a jeweler.

You get my drift.

I used to buy things with the intention of using them to learn something new and then putting them away “for later.” Now I have to watch my spending.

Which in turn means I have to go on a budget, and at the risk of repeating myself… that sucks!

I’ve always thrown away the ads that come in the mail, but now I’ve started reading them.

For instance, at Smart and Final I could buy an 18 pack of eggs for 99 cents. But I have to buy four items on some list that, as I understand it, only the store manager has.

Who the hell writes ads that people like me can’t figure out. I’m sure if I shopped the ads everyday I’d understand, but I don’t, so I don’t.

Meanwhile, the other stores are starting to be just as oblique in their wording. Why can’t they just say what they mean? It’s starting to feel like I’m buying a used car, not a few eggs.

Albertson’s is returning to coupons. But I just read the ads and don’t pay much attention to this resurrected dinosaur, because the few times I’ve tried to use them they were either expired or I left them on the kitchen counter.

Next they’ll bring back their member cards and we’ll need to remember to bring them both.

But my biggest bitch about ads and specials is that they are aimed at people who have large families and buy in quantity. Which leaves me out. –In spite of outward appearances I’m only eating for one.

I’ll figure out this whole getting old thing, but probably not ’til after I’m dead.

Still whining means I’m still alive.