[BRINDLEKIN TALES – Book 3: Chapter 17r]
Subject: Well lookee here: Adisa’s Mom has a FB page!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 31, 2021 8:38 PM
So I just messaged her this:
I will also text Myrtle’s FB page URL to Morey and Jack in a few moments, and let them know I’ve informed her of the incident. Meanwhile:
Deek finally dropped by this morning to collect the brindlekin. He showed me a little doggy bicycle cart enclosed with a zip-up tent and lashed to the bike, that the pups may ride with him. I’m sure they’ll love it, though Flaco may be unwilling to stay inside the contraption…seeing as he can never get her to sit in the shopping cart with Lucky. But we’ll see.
I gave him twenty more dollars, told him I really had to squeeze this out of my end-of-the-month budget, and I now have only three dollars left for four days. Which is not true, but he doesn’t need to know that. I actually have $55 remaining…bad enough, but I’m good.
He gratefully accepted the Jackson, saying: “Aw c’mon, don’t make me feel bad about it,” and offered it back. I said no, it’s fine, glad to do it, I have plenty of food to last me.
Then I told him something sad happened yesterday, has nothing to do with the dogs. That was the altercation at Morey’s shop. He was surprised to hear the cops didn’t track them down and at least reprimand them. Told him I was, too, because they were both responsive and effective when I called 911 over MY altercation with Adisa and punks.
I also told him that little section of the Castro is sort of my own outdoor sanctuary, away from the usual bullshit…and that the folks at Morey’s have become “my people” (to put it in Deek’s own street vernacular). But now a dark shadow hangs over it. I assured him though that things will work out okay, it’s just sad that such a pointless horror went down on some really nice people who appreciate me, and the pooches. Morey is very pro-homeless, as am I.
Formerly, whenever I tried to tell Deek of a sorry occurrence in my life, he’d cut me off, even shout me down. Worse: he’s also mocked me. But lately, he’s been attentive and supportive towards my own struggles. Quite an improvement, eh, Wattson?
A few weeks back there was a homeless man loitering in the ATM alcove below my window, sprawled out either drunk or drugged, and bellowing nonsense to those walking by. Which of course, was a major disturbance for me, trying to live my own life in my hovel upstairs…albeit a typically frequent nuisance, of which those Hohokum employees are no help. Deek showed up by the bus stop and, once I came downstairs, he jokingly remarked (speaking over the vagrant’s screams) what nice people hang out around my place. This observation on his part tells me he’s matured considerably, and is on my side more often than not, these days.
Before departing, he thanked me for everything, said God bless; and I, the same. Once more, he simply disappeared around the corner and, I presumed, parked himself on the back side of my building, where he’d linger peacefully for an hour or so. Though now 30 minutes later, I just peeked out the hallway window to discover no sign of him anywhere!
So that’s how my day has started. Will Myrtle reply, and what kind of response will that be, if she does? I doubt she will, but you never know. Maybe she’ll send some goons to my door, ha-ha.
– Zeke K-Holmes
Re: Well lookee here: Adisa’s Mom has a FB page!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 1, 2021 12:56 PM
> You won’t hear back from her.
Good! Did you see what her “occupation” is? Self employed family consultant! Good god.
> But the son may hear from her.
Good! Hopefully, the impact of my message will staunch any further harassment upon Morey’s shop. Doing my best to avert tragedy. This is disgusting, that Adisa should suddenly impose further horror into my life AFTER he’s supposedly moved on…potentially destroying the only friendly association I have in my neighborhood, achieved only after many months of amicable rapport. Preceded by many years of virtual social isolation, other than what I have in cyberspace…thanks mostly to you, good doctor!
Don’t you find it suspicious I should actually witness this altercation, rather than just hear about it? This is why I believe that once more, a script created by my bodhisattva guardians is being played out. For what reason? That I become the hero in yet another scenario. Which suggests that Morey et al are in on it, too. Which would be GREAT, because then it would mean no harm actually done.
> How about the Kevin situation, the misfired text and all??
Being just another actor in this play starring Zeke, I’m sure he and coconspirators (including chihuahua man) had quite a hardy laugh. But no, nothing further has evolved in this matter, that I can see. Though Athena only knows WHAT new tricks he’s conjuring up his sleeve, to make me stumble once more. So long as I don’t lose it and go ballistic, they will always fail. He has not texted me back after my faux pas, nor did I expect him to, since the LAST thing he desires is to have ANY friendly rapport with me, on ANY level.
> Good for Deek. And good for you for your concentrated kindness to him.
Those darling pups have played a major paw in bringing this about. What an amazing story, “Brindlekin Tales.” The doggies bring such joy and inspiration into my world, and I believe that’s been Deek’s intention all along. That is true kindness, my friend!
– Zeke K-Holmes
Re: Adisa and Punk Friends Robbed Morey’s Shop This Afternoon!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 1, 2021 1:01 PM
> I know. I’m just hoping you’ll be extra vigilant in these barbaric times when the Philistines are in ascendance.
An assault rifle could come in handy. When in Rome…
Subject: Jack has already returned to work!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 2, 2021 8:30 PM
I went to Morey’s corner store to see him working behind the counter, just two days after the incident. Said he got my texts, and thanked me kindly. I told him if it were me, I would’ve taken at least a week before returning to work…that was quite nerve-wracking. Then I brought up some of the BS I went through while Myrtle & son were still residing in my building.
Morey thanked me too, when I returned there later in the day. I told him about my message to Myrtle, and he asked, “Can you post anonymously?”
I said nope, you can’t, not with Facebook. Though that’s not true, but it is difficult for most people to accomplish. Had I posted under a fake name, I’m sure the impact would’ve been trivial by comparison. I presume Morey was concerned for my own safety, but also impressed. Jack does show some strain for what he’s been through; I’m guessing he’s in his late seventies. He should bounce back.
At any rate, an excellent rapport has sprouted out of this. Glad to support a local business! I remain, as always, good physician:
Your friend and admirer,
– Zeke K-Holmes
Subject: Sleeping Better than Ever Through it All!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 3, 2021 10:44 AM
An interesting observation I’ve made about my present life, is that I’m sleeping very well these days. Which started sometime after the pups had come into my life. This is regardless of any conflicts that arise; and there have been several thus far…as you well know, Wattson. In fact, I’m sleeping better than I ever have in decades! Insomnia appears to be a thing of the past, finally. So nice to actually feel drowsy by 10 or 11 PM…and if I don’t hit the sack soon thereafter, I become even drowsier! I even find myself dozing off now and then in the daytime, while partially reclined in my swivel chair and watching a video. Which is also new to me, as I’ve never been able to take a REAL nap for decades as well.
I used to be a night person until recently, staying up until 2 or 3 AM, but sometimes the whole damn night. The doggies have turned me into a morning person, because by 7:30 AM or so their need to poop is urgent. As is mine, I suppose.
Though I don’t believe the credit goes entirely to Flaco & Lucky, but to learning better not to worry about a thing per my newfound philosophy I call The Bodhisattva Premise. Yet I probably would not have gotten there in the first place, without the brindlekin’s sweet company. So I give them 99.99999 percent of the credit, leaving barely a smidgeon for any other influences that merit my gratitude. Especially since finding some way to not worry so much about them having to live on the streets, was especially difficult to overcome. As for worrying about conflicts coming out of my residency (keeping my bodhisattva theory in mind):
By interpreting their challenges as outright harassment, I am missing the boat. What they’re REALLY doing is tweaking my emotional quotient to a level where that situation, too, becomes worry-free. Thus, I am definitely on the right path by having concluded some months back, that the BEST possible way to deal with this, is to remain calm and friendly even under stress, and to staunch any anger that may arise in my heart.
Whenever fear wells up (or any other negative sentiment such as grief and anxiety) I quickly switch my thoughts to joyful ones. This is particularly helpful for the newshound in me! I keep up with EVERYTHING, so if I didn’t develop a thick skin, I’d’ve become a twitching puddle of nerves long ago. I must say, this DJ Trump reign of terror (that extends beyond his four years in the oval office, and remains with us now like a dark curse on humanity) has been MOST efficacious in accelerating my ascension into a broader realm of positivity. Or, as I like to call it, “NeoPositivity,” my precursor title to what I now dub the Bodhisattva Premise.
Common sense would conclude that this premise applies to any and ALL negative fantasies of worst-case scenarios, including worry about aging and all the imagined pitfalls that go with it. NONE OF THAT WILL HAPPEN. Though one shouldn’t even worry about worrying about it. All THAT will do is fill your days with anxiety, over things that will not manifest. Though mundane reality works very hard at trying to convince us otherwise. Which is its PURPOSE, to offer up challenge after challenge that we may learn to overcome each one. And in so doing, we become that much wiser and more jubilant.
It is even MORE joyful to realize that such difficult challenges brought about by Trumpism have likewise had a fortuitous impact on many others across the globe…albeit not yet particularly obvious. In that, millions of others have also grown into a more dynamically positive state of mind, in standing up to such adversity. In that sense, one may regard COVID-19 as nothing more than frosting on the cake. One may even find it rather hilarious, perceiving it as I do now, to be “the Idiot Remover Pandemic.” Well, enough of this. Back to the doggies:
Flaco always howls first…if howl she does whenever a fire engine or ambulance wails away nearby, which is usually NOT the case, except when the siren calls are prolonged. What happens is that, first, she will rear her head to alert, at which moment Lucky will stare at her with rapt attention, to see if she will begin her howling. If she does, then and only then will her brother join in. Otherwise, she’ll return back to rest, as will Lucky. It is as if, as her loving sibling, he is her booster, giving her first dibs to anything choice.
Several days back I found another large box to replace the one I had to discard in preparation for bedbug treatment. It was during my walk with the pooches that I came across one, left by the curb with two other, smaller boxes. Nice, ample room and clean as a whistle, as it apparently had been discarded just that morning, after being relieved of its contents! So, after looking it over inside and out, I decided to lug it home. But just when I reached for it, Flaco raised a leg and peed all over one side! Lesson learned: never look for a new box when the pups are present. Or snatch it up quickly before it gets defiled.
Well, I predict Deek and pups will show up later on today, or perhaps tomorrow, as I told him three days ago there’s no more money until my next Social Security deposit. I hope he still has that doggy cart, and that Flaco enjoys riding in it. Though I have my doubts, as she refuses to sit in the shopping cart, unlike Lucky who loves to go for the ride every chance he gets. I wonder how they’ll deal with riding inside a moving vehicle, as that will become a necessity, once San Franshitsco collapses into a Mad Max free-for-all, and you come all the way down from Mendoland to rescue us.
– Zeke K-Holmes
Subject: Arwyn Spotting Alert
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 3, 2021 2:26 PM
Saw him this morning as we each turned the same corner from opposite directions. That was at Market & Church; on my way to Molden Produce health food store to pick up another loaf of Alvarado Street Sprouted Wheat Raisin Bread. Each acting like one didn’t know the other. Happy to see he’s alive and well (though a tad gray as evidenced by the stubble on his face which, I guess, is his latest look). I’m sure he feels the same way about me. Hardy har-har. I only wish I could have brought the pups along, in all their spectacular cuteness. They would’ve charmed him to pieces, as they do most everyone else.
– Zeke K-Holmes
Re: [MCN-Discussion]- (no subject)
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 3, 5:39 PM
> Jeeziz.
Oh I have the perfect reply…you’ll be impressed. However, since Mr. Dewars has not also posted that email to me, I have to wait until the next list digest arrives–which will be either later today, or tomorrow–before I can respond. I’ve asked Mr. Dennis to send me the actual email, so I can study the hidden data that will reveal the IP number, and other details. If Dewars posted from a coffeehouse, that will be revealed by the IP, as well as the time and date. Then the cops can go there and check out the business’s camera footage. Assuming the establishment has that kind of security. If he emailed this from home base, that’s even better…or from anyone else’s home.
However, seeing as the goon has gotten away with bullying people online so much, with many complaints likely registered against him already, I really don’t see how my report will be of any real help. Especially in light of the law usually not regarding emails as equal to traditional phone calls, when it comes to harassment.
– Zeke K-Holmes
Re: [MCN-Discussion]- (no subject)
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 3, 2021 6:08
> Though it wasn’t too smart of him to publicly post his “plan” to have an airtight alibi.
He’s just trying to intimidate me. My response will be priceless…stay tuned!
Subject: Pups back again, Deek doing extraordinarily well!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 4, 2021 11:38 AM
He called up to my window shortly after 8 AM. Still with the bicycle and doggy cart, though I didn’t have a chance to ask if Flaco enjoyed it, as he was in a rush again. He handed off the dogs to me, who were furiously eager to step inside. Deek was delighted to receive his allowance a bit early, said he’ll be back later; then said well, maybe not till tomorrow. (Though I hope it won’t be until the day after that, like the last time.) Right after we said our goodbyes, and as the brindlekin were tugging on their leashes through the open gate, he added:
“I know they’re in good hands with you.”
He came off with a healthy air of confidence and a happy spirit…which seems to have become his new normal starting two or so months ago. And just getting better. I think I’ll joke with him next time around, say something like:
“You’re a really busy man these days, Deek. I guess establishing your own drug cartel is not all cake and flowers!”
We have a new neighbor across the way, and it sounds like they own a chihuahua. This could turn out very well, as the pups may finally have another doggy friend in the building.
I trust you’re off to a good start today, and every day, good doctor. It’s a cold, gray morning here, and I love it.
– Zeke K-Holmes
Re: Pups back again, Deek doing extraordinarily well!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 4, 2021 1:14 PM
> Great news about Deek, and great news about a possible doggy friend.
Yep, it surely is. What a long road it’s been, but all worth it.
Lucky has a new habit of pressing a chunky paw on my arm whenever he wants his neck scratched. Or, when he’s not lying beside me, pushing his head firmly against my leg. I love how he holds his head up high, tilting it left and right as I scratch first here, then there, while he makes the sweetest little groans. If I stop too soon, he’ll make that clear.
> We have a busted pipe here, so no water. Temporary, but a pain in the wazoo. Plumbers cost a bloody fortune, so we are trying to fix it ourselves, alas!
Ugh. I’m sure you’ll get it repaired yourselves. I don’t see how anyone who owns their home does not wind up being totally absorbed in maintaining it, with little time for anything else, such as eating, sleeping and watering the thirsty bears coming down from the hills and into your backyard, during the drought. Forget any social life outside those walls!
> Somebody oughtta be here making a documentary about it. So, stand by!!!
Throw a cat or two into the mix, and it’s bound to go viral…at least on Youtube. Cats are magic.
– Zeke K-Holmes
Re: [MCN-Discussion]- (no subject)
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN discussion list
Date: August 4, 2021 2:11 PM
On Tue, 3 Aug 2021 13:29:26 -0700 spike NAZI TROLL dewars squoinked:
> Enjoy bullying little old Asian women Your Assholiness ? We shall soon see if you can take it half as good as you dish it out. I’ll be here four hours away with an airtight alibi and no money or communication trail implicating me in anything. Done this before.
Oh, aren’t YOU Ms. Merang’s knight in shining armor! Rising to the call of defending every Asian woman on the planet. Where’s Jerry Springer when you need him?
YOU seem to not grasp that she is MANIPULATING you, using flattery to trick you into doing something dangerously illegal that will get you locked up for a good, long time. Playing the sweet little victim Asian female to the hilt. Haven’t you been through this before…with women in general, not Asian ones specifically?
Haven’t you stated more than once that most women just want a man to pay for their expenses and not carry their own weight? Haven’t you stated more than once you’ve been taken advantage of by a woman, and you’re better off going on without them? Don’t you see she’s manipulating you into a trap..in the way some ladies do so well?
Ms. Merang is playing on your own pro-Nazi proclivities to make you go into a rage and commit a horrendous crime. Even if you had every reason to hate me (which you do NOT, on any level, but let’s just ignore all that for the sake of driving home my point)…she is playing you like a fiddle. Nurturing that hatred into a tragic crescendo that will only make your world come crashing down, and put you behind bars. TANYA IS NOT YOUR FRIEND, SHE’S BOGUS.
Just a word to the wise. Have fun with that. Woo-hoo!
Re: Pups back again, Deek doing extraordinarily well!
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 4, 2021 3:44 PM
> If only I actually did own this house….yes, my name is on the deed, but the true owner is the bank, which, through a series of grotesque contortions, allows me to live here, for now.
I’d say that’s true for the overwhelming majority of so-called “home owners.” Outright “owning” is rare, and mostly by the wealthy. I am in a similarly precarious living situation as a renter…which you know all about. Yet I’ve managed to hold on for decades, much to the chagrin of building managers and certain gossipy residents.
> I’m anything but financially secure, and paying professional repair people is usually prohibitive…so it’s getting very “Grey Gardens” around here, alas.
I can’t imagine how quickly costs build up when hiring professionals to maintain one’s home over this or that emergency.
> Though I never forget that I’m way, way better off than millions of people. And I know quite well that “there but for fortune go I….”
Same here, in a most unanticipated outcome of which rent control has been THE saving grace. Though other factors are involved.
> I love the description of Lucky wanting neck scratches. I love it when little animals step up and demand love.
Yeah, like that darling little otter in a Youtube video, who so clearly demonstrated its desire for a petting. Melted my heart.
> My orange kitty leaps onto the computer table like a little gymnast (which is what cats are,
Expert athletes!
> aside from serial killers and sybarites)
Which only adds to their charm, for some hilarious reason.
> and butts my typing fingers with her little head, touching me with her cold wet vibrating purring nose. I am powerless to resist. And the doggy gazes at me with his long-lashed soulful brown eyes until I give him a thorough ear and neck-scritching and a treat.
We are held captive by their charms, never wishing to escape. The only kind of prisoner worth being, because of the sweetest perks. Who can resist rubbing and kissing Flaco’s belly when she rolls on her back, front paws drooped and floppy-eared noggin coyly turned to one shoulder, with pink tongue sticking out? Irresistible! They’ve got us wrapped around their little paw.
– Zeke K-Holmes
Texting with Wattson – 8/5/21
Pic 1 (large version): New Sign
Pic 2 (large version): Unsafe Back Stairs
Video: Coffin Express
Subject: A Bit of Drama
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 6, 2021 1:54 PM
Deek came by unexpectedly, an hour ago…asked me to watch the pups for awhile. Said that the dogs are getting out of hand, Lucky punctured a hole in someone’s cheap-ass shoe who was harassing the little pooches…threatened to kill the pups, they shouldn’t even be out here, et cetera. And his “girlfriend” (whoever the hell she is, if not a figment) after witnessing the altercation, exclaimed she wants nothing more to do with Deek, so long as the mutts are around. Then he ranted about how others, whenever they see him without Lucky & Flaco, mock him for letting a housed person take care of them, that he’s not a real street dude, et cetera.
“Why is this going on?” Deek addressed the gods through THIS patient pilgrim.
So I explained to him they’re jealous of the dogs, and having a housed friend…IOW they’re fucking with him. I patted him on the shoulder:
“Just keep your cool, I trust you, things’ll work out. For now, let me take the doggies inside.” There was even another homeless guy just several feet away, diddling with his portable radio, with his (apparently) friendly German shepherd companion stretched out on the pavement. Neither Deek’s pups nor the shepherd paid any mind to the other; all was surprisingly placid.
He ended our latest meetup by admitting I’m right, he’s just gotta work off some steam. And he stated once again that he knows they’re always safe with me. Deek was not loud at all, but spoke in a rather steady tone, while through it all, the pups were as mellow as brindlekin cucumbers. Neither seemed worse for the harassment, including Flaco, who he claimed was kicked a couple of times.
I don’t believe any of this, that it’s just another little drama Deek enjoys inventing (though when he said it’s all true cross my heart, I replied I believe you, just sorry it happened.). But it’s to my benefit, a perfect excuse to have them over. Making me the hero once again. He said they’re probably not hungry, they just ate. And he was right, as NEITHER showed any interest in having their favorite ducky treat. Instead, they crashed out with impressive elan. I don’t think they got much sleep last night. Flaco’s in the box right now, enjoying the seclusion, while Lucky’s stretched out on the cot, licking one edge of the bedding. Ah, nirvana!
Attached is a pic I just took of a typical, spoiled San Franshitscan seated upon some glorified motorbike and licking a soft-serve, organic ice cream cone from the Super Duper Burger joint next door. Just the kind of person who will fuck you over at the drop of a hat, if you’re poor or homeless or elderly or not good looking, or any other number of absurd and unjustified reasons. Like some of the idiots who occupy my building. But Deek has to deal with them too, for they also number among the homeless with their own pecking order.
He did give me some worry two days ago, that I did not mention in my text. He arrived with another 20-pound Bluetooth speaker…only this one loosely jerry-rigged with duct tape and wires sticking out like a rabid Medusa. The front plate was barely hanging on, and he was struggling to get the cord plugged in properly, so I wouldn’t have to deal with it once hovel. I told him let me bring the dogs in while you’re dealing with that.
While settling the pups down for their stay, I finally realized that that lead-acid powered speaker is a hazard! So upon my return a few minutes later, I told him to throw it away (even though by now he had got it to play and said “see it’s working”), that it could easily set fire or even explode…it could hurt him or the mutts. I feared he’d react belligerently and try to talk me into taking it upstairs to charge overnight. But he didn’t, he simply agreed with a swift “okay.”
Whew!
– Zeke K-Holmes
Re: A Bit of Drama
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 6, 2021 3:21 PM
> The image of the dude on the blue bike contraption–wretched excess, conspicuous consumption!!
And licking an ORGANIC ice cream cone: the pièce de résistance to this textbook illustration of material gluttony.
> Great to hear of Deek’s progress. I’m starting to actually believe in it!!!
Well, Wattson, it’s all out of Kismet’s own script, as far as I can tell. His mature handling of my wresting the pups from his world (back in January) in order to spare them from potential misery, is not at all what I anticipated. Bringing them back to me so soon after I returned them via the police, trusting me with his pups…that’s actually remarkable, considering his previously bratty behavior. Assuming my Bodhisattva Premise, these harrowing little adventures are more about teaching ME to become more trusting and relaxed, than about getting Deek to grow up.
Till we’ve now reached the point where he readily, and politely, accepts any of my “no” decisions. Did he really grow up so fast, or is this all a carefully constructed play, written and staged by my bodhisattva keepers of the flame? I believe it’s the latter, and accumulating incidents just layer on that affirmation like a thick, sweet frosting.
> Love to think of the doggies in blissful, peaceful rest.
My darling, brindlekin angels…their kind nature is profound! They’ve turned my hovel into a teensy bit of Avalon on earth, in spite of repeated bedbug invasions, harassment from residents and manager alike, and cacophony spilling in from the crazy street dramas playing outside 24/7.
> Oh, the stories they could tell!!!
OMG, maybe they will someday, by some kind of new, ingenious Android app. Their innocent perception of things would be a revelation to humanity.
> “Rabid Medusa!” That’s great!
Ha ha, as if she weren’t rabid already. That shabby Bluetooth speaker veritably screamed DANGER, WILL ROBINSON!
– Zeke K-Holmes
Texting with Wattson – 8/6/21
Texting with Wattson – 8/6/21 (cont’d)
Pic: Autopsy Emoji
Video: Lucky
Pic: Calamity Jane
Pic: Flaco
Video: A Quiet Morning
Video: 4 Doggies
Re: [MCN-Discussion]- (no subject)
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN discussion list
Date: August 7, 2021 4:22 PM
On Tue, 6 Aug 2021 16:32 spike NAZI TROLL dewars squoinked:
> You don’t even deserve to be alive you PARASITE, let alone to live in Mendocino. It’s not even worth working you to death as you’ve never worked. Just a bullet in the back of the head, then your body off to the rendering plant. At least we could get a couple bars of soap and a small bag of fertilizer out of you which will be the ONLY contribution you will ever make to society.
He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword. So be it. Woo-hoo!
Subject: I don’t know what’s up with the building manager, Kevin…
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 7, 2021 9:14 PM
…and the back stairs. They’ve ALWAYS been dangerous (as Dieter reminded me), but they are no MORE dangerous now, than before. By “dangerous,” I mean they are narrow, and a bit tricky when you have to turn a corner halfway down, to finally get to the basement. If you have to descend from the top floor, you must turn FOUR such corners before you reach the compost bin.
But, though wooden, they remain solid, not the least bit wobbly, and no nails or other sharp protrusions. The banister is round, smooth, and narrow enough to wrap your hand around…and NOT slippery, splintery, or even a tad rickety.
Why the building inspectors never did anything about pressuring Ablahblah Realty to upgrade those stairs decades ago, is beyond me. I think, perhaps, due to the building’s relative antiquity, grandfather laws offer shameful loopholes. At any rate:
My compost had reached the rim of my large, plastic bowl today…and Kevin never informed me, or the residents in general, where else to dump our food scraps. So I climbed down to the basement and disposed of it, knowing my breaking this new rule would be recorded, since there’s a camera for each back porch, and one in the basement. But what choice do I have?
Deek has yet to return, so the pups are still here. Fine with me, of course. A few encounters so far in which they barked, though not so raucously as in previous months. The ducky treats do their magic for the most part, except the occasional times (like this morning) when they’re already sated and have no desire to snack.
Yesterday one young, string-bean fellow came rushing down the stairs, and caught us in the middle, with little space to pass. The pups barked, but were easy to nudge on ahead, whereby they ceased their yaps promptly. The new resident just chuckled, and said, “Well, good morning to you, too!” Obviously, he saw they don’t bite, nor even grab onto a pant cuff or shoelace..as Lucky enjoys doing to me, when I take them out for a stroll.
And this afternoon, when I stepped into the lobby, there was Dieter about to take his first step up with wheelchair folded beside him…which he raises with his left hand, and sets down with a loud THUD on each step forward. I can hear that from my hovel, BTW…but it also sounds just like Kevin or the maintenance fellow, Jorge, lugging an overloaded trash bin from one of the back porches, down the stairs: THUMP [pause], THUMP [pause], THUMP [pause] and so on. Talk about the perfect sound effects for a haunted mansion!
Often, another tenant shows up and offers to carry the wheelchair upstairs. Which is what happened today. But then after climbing to the next floor, he stopped to talk some more with Dieter, still one flight below and barely five steps above the ground floor. Which left me and pups stuck waiting in the lobby, because we couldn’t yet pass by him. But even if we could, there was that helping-hand resident standing and yapping small talk from the second floor, which would cause the mutts to bark again as they approached.
I was worried that someone else would step in while I was constrained to the lobby…thus the dogs’ barking could ensue once more. They only barked at Dieter for around 15 seconds, and once he finally started up the stairs, I let them dash up close to him, and said:
“The dogs of terror are right behind you!”
“Yes,” he joked, “I can feel them nipping at my heels!”
Actually, the pups were silent by that point, politely allowing Dieter to take his time…he loves the dogs, and they, him. Soon as he reached the landing midway to the second floor, he allowed us to scoot on by. And, fortunately, that person porting the wheelchair had finally quit chatting and disappeared up the next flight. He’s the queeny sort, and I was wary of any drama coming from him, should the dogs have been forced to squeeze by him, too, and sound off.
A third encounter was when we exited the gate this morning: two other residents were outside, and held it open for me. The dogs barked, but just a bit…no big dealie.
One reason I am eager to have the new elevator up and running…so there won’t be so many occupants, delivery people and workers passing by, up and down the first flight stairs to disturb the brindlekin. That elevator door, by the way, HAS NO FUCKIN’ WINDOW IN IT, though the old one did! All the more reason to call it “The Coffin Express.” Though another reason for naming it such, is that installing the new lift may have cost us one life; meaning Todd who passed away back in March, perhaps because some in the elevator crew did not bother to wear a mask for a time during our lockdown. Reminds me of an old documentary I watched years ago, about building bridges or skyscrapers: there is always at least ONE worker who falls to his death…a life sacrificed in the name of progress.
That sticker is still on his door by the way, the one from the Medical Examiner’s Office warning people to not enter, at risk of being fined or jailed. I feel sorry for anyone who moves in there…it’s the room of death. Another obnoxious person died in room 209 from a heroine overdose, that was possibly a murder. That is: his two druggie friends might have bumped him off so they could steal some of his $45,000 inheritance from an uncle, a portion of which may have been wads of cash hidden in his domicile. That was back in, oh, 1987 or thereabouts. I was actually away in Santa Cruz for a week, when they discovered his corpse, due to the stink that began to permeate. I hate this building.
Well, it’s now almost 9 PM and still no Deek. Not worried about it, as I’m sure he’s figuring stuff out and keeping busy. Maybe he’s looking for part time, under-the-counter work, like washing dishes somewhere in the Mission! Low-level job opportunities aplenty have opened up, thanks to this pandemic. Or maybe he really IS starting up his own street-boutique drug cartel! If so, I’ll make it clear to him I don’t want to know anything about it. So there.
– Zeke K-Holmes
Re: I don’t know what’s up with the building manager, Kevin…
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: August 7, 2021 11:38 PM
> Oh, God. The corpse moldering away in the room. That’s the city for you.
I think many of the dead are still walking about, resurrected maybe, or just Republican. I suspect some of them live right here in 9666 Market Street, including the manager.
> My mother had an apartment in NYC in the 1960s, rent-control (her rent was something like $65 a month, dirt cheap even then). An old lady who lived on the top floor, who’d been there for decades, died alone.
I wouldn’t mind dying alone…in fact I’d PREFER it when you consider the other options for a low income senior like me: nursing home from hell or drab hospital room with four others, and you have tubes stuck into you, and you can’t move, read, watch TV, use the Internet, or even defecate cleanly and w/o assistance by a low-wage aide from Jalisco.
> You know the rest of the story…so sad, so ignominious. I actually think death would be less frightening if we didn’t leave a corpse behind.
Death would be even LESS frightening if it didn’t kill you, but just your enemies.
> Wonderful doggy report and lovable pic!
That was a closeup shot of my Flaco-sweater pic I sent you earlier. She looks like a young, virgin nun! Flaco’s sweet image should be depicted in stained glass in every cathedral on the planet.
> Hope Deek stays away a long time. But that’s just me!
He just showed up as I was composing this missive. I’m glad he did, and here’s why:
Should he disappear for whatever reason, I’m stuck with the pups 24/7, and would probably be legally compelled to get rid of them. By law, I would first have to get permission from the manager…but since I just live in a room, he probably would say no to ANY pet. This way, I am merely dog sitting, thus having them away on a regular basis keeps things running smoothly for me.
Expecting the manager to ALLOW not just one, but two, doggies in a single room is a long shot. Especially in light of his prejudices, including against the homeless…and his hatred towards yours truly. The rules of this pet-friendly building exclude any SRO tenant from having ANY pet, whatsoever. Though it seems they usually look the other way, because it DOES happen from time to time. But I don’t know if permission first needs to be granted, or they just play it by ear.
The fact that the manager has not already pursued forcing me to stop having the dogs over, suggests this is more of a scenario played out for my own benefit, that is: my Bodhisattva Premise. Or it may be due to his vile treatment towards me over the Myrtle/Adisa conflict…which is blatantly illegal, including his nasty letter to me, that he signed. And I’ve documented every single abusive confrontation of his. So in that sense, I have him over a barrel. Also keep in mind that Kevin KNOWS I never back off when I’m in the right, as I’ve already burned him good for his transgressions.
But I DO believe this IS a bodhisattva game in which I am already destined to be the hero in EVERY conflict that may arise. I have been, so far, which is an excellent sign of a jubilant future, including near future. Therefore, they will only go so far with threats and actions…just enough to test my mettle, and in so doing, teach me how to rise above all worry, and be as gracious as possible, no matter what.
In which case, should Deek vanish, I WOULD be allowed to keep Flaco & Lucky in my charge. But let’s not go there, for I do not believe it will come to that, which is: Deek’s sudden departure from my world, with or without the pooches. All shall turn out win-win for both of us. And the dogs shall have TWO loving masters, and a long and happy life.
When I brought the pups back to him, he asked right away how is Flaco doing. This was over his concern for her being kicked about the other night (which I don’t believe ever happened, as she appeared in her usual, glowing health, and in excellent spirits). I told him she seems great, no sign of any harm whatsoever. Anyway, he leaned on me a bit over the meanness of some people, so I commended him on how well he’s doing. That these conflicts will soon pass, and he’ll have better options in his life. God is watching over him, as well as the pups.
Just don’t let nasty people make you lose control. Never use anger to justify your actions…always find a better way to deal with crises. But he already knows that, as he pretty much embellished on my advice, injecting his responses here and there in my pep talk. In fact, in a short while I felt like I was conversing with myself!
I wished him well, he thanked me profusely, then off they went, and I, back hovel to complete this email. I am the Tarot card’s Fool On The Hill. If you’re not sure what I mean by this, visit here.
In particular, the opening section called “Fool Definition,” and the one that follows: “Upright Fool.” The third (and final) part, “The Reverse Fool” does not apply to my situation.
Notice the friendly dog by his side. The Tarot card deck is actually a collection of humanity’s most powerful archetypes, and is precisely why Carl Jung revered them so much as a powerful tool for meditation and insight (NOT for fortune telling, mind you.)
ZekeBlog 2.0 