Free Cheese Central

After twelve years in a “lower socioeconomic” neighborhood, I’m preparing to move. The initial attraction was, and remains, cheap rent. For ten of those twelve years, I was on the road most of the time. The joke was, my clothing lived here. Now, the landlord wants to take advantage of the gentrification of the neighborhood, fix up the dump, and move in his sister. Oh well, I’m tired of the place, and the twelve steep steps up to the deck and entrance don’t favor my arthritic knees. Despite the upgrading of the neighborhood due to the outflow of illegal  immigrants, this is still Free Cheese Central.

Before I got too disgusted with the Democratic Party to continue attending meetings, I became acquainted with many people in the neighborhood. That is why I feel free to call it Free Cheese Central.

 I’m living in a Progressive paradise judging by my neighbors. The occupant of the unit below me is on disability, receives Section 8, food stamps, Medicaid, and free or reduced utilities. She has been married five times to three different men, proving that some men are slow learners. She has five adult children. There is a parade of men who appear to be halfway house residents visiting her. I will grant that, for her age, she looks “hot” in a trashy way. Of course, dressing like a sexy teenager when you are fifty may not be the best look. When she worked, she was a bartender, and she dresses like she is on her way to work every day. None of this bothers me. What bothers me is she is a negative, passive aggressive professional victim and a viscous gossip who doesn’t mind her own business.

Next door I have a sixty year old hippie, a mental health counselor with a huge temper issue, and perpetual student. As long as she can get student loans, she is in school. Last I heard, she was going for a doctorate. She will never live long enough to pay back those loans, but she gets enough to live on plus her work earnings.  She has several dogs, none that has ever been groomed, cats, finches, fish, and a cockatiel, all in a one bedroom 800 sq. ft. house. In her yard there is a greenhouse, three or four chicken coops,  and several chickens. Her place is overgrown with unkempt flower beds. She feeds the squirrels and the squirrel population in our block needs to be seen to believed. Need I say, Hillary is “her girl”? She loathes me for being a knuckle dragging misogynist NRA member who is homophobic. I’m not homophobic. I will call a duck a duck. She seems to think she can go all wretched on me and is horribly offended that I won’t “take it”; that I’ll tell her what trees make shingles. Two views of her yard.

I haven’t decided just where I will move, but will probably stay in the area. Most likely, the move will be a few miles North of my present location.

The moving won’t be too bad as I’ve never been one for accumulating many possessions.

Blogging will be sporadic, unless something really pisses me off. Your patience will be appreciated.