The clock

The clock in the activities room has been sick for a long, long time. It has run slower and slower. Just like some of us. I have tried to get the “powers that be” to fix it. I even told Old Forgetful, the manager, in front of the residents at our monthly meeting. Nothing happened.

Finally, I took it down and placed it on the Manager’s Table in the dining room. It disappeared almost immediately. I assumed they had replaced the AA battery and had it running again. As soon as I arrived at lunch the next day, one of the residents told me the clock was still cuckoo.

It seems that one of the managers assumed it had been fixed and hung it back up. This time, he took the battery out and told me later that time had permanently stopped – at least for that sick clock. Now, I wonder if Old Forgetful will spring $7.00 for a new one.

From what I understand Elise has a proverbial pack-rat apartment. In addition, she is a minor klepto who takes napkins, sweeteners, and newspapers are places them in her voluminous purse. Lately, when her apartment is full to the brim she skims off the top and throws that “stuff” off her balcony. Management has spoken to her about it several times, but she keeps forgetting.

I would love to take that clock to her eleventh-floor balcony and watch time fly.

AsA

There are few things more frustrating than over-authorized, armed, under-informed guardians of the public enforcing statutes they do not know under the premise of "national security