Caterwauling

That was a line from People We Meet on Vacation.

I obviously haven’t been everywhere.

But I take unnatural pleasure at saying, “When I was in Tokyo last week …”

So I am making a life list.

I told Kelly I have to get her to DisneySea.

And she has to get me to Basel for Christmas markets.

She is heading to London but I don’t care so much about that.

So when we save up some moola, we got some plans to make.

I don’t go to our pool much because our HOA people are always there.

The other day, I bought lunch from the final cookout of the season. Because MAGA Frank has finally gone home, and I actually like the people who take over every year around this time.

They asked if I wanted to buy a Kentucky Derby party ticket for $10. I said sure. The HOA twat literally said, “I am such a good salesperson.” In a flat and whiny voice.

Yesterday I spent the day in Fort Lauderdale. And did not claim my $10 hot dog and chips.

I did spend $200 on a dress for tomorrow.

And that much on dinner at Serafina Waterfront and a sushi plate for today.

In any event, when I was at the pool, I saw there’s a whole notification board for residents who’ve died in the last month.

Very sad to see my neighbor Tony P. passed in March. (Obit.)

I’ve written about him here. Notably when some MAGA prick got right in my face about my mask.

All 5’3″ of Tony got between us and said if you need to push around someone, how about do it to a man.

I think about how hard it was for me to stop wearing a mask when mom died. Like, it was just part of every outfit. Going without one was like actively choosing not to wear a bra.

But back then, it was one thing I COULD do to help the cancer not grow, maybe.

I haven’t seen that asshole in a while. He’s on the May birthday list, as am I. With the wrong date for mine, like it has been since 2019.

In any event, Tony had a lovely, short note about his education, his kindness, his passion as a teacher and school counselor.

And where to send condolences to his wife in New York, as she hasn’t come back to their FL home.

That reminds me, her birthday is on the May list. I should send her a note.

There were a few others I sort of recognized but most didn’t register.

Then there’s Carl Sr.

Carl Jr. is the one who loved to shove his camera up my skirt when I fed cats. Carl Jr.’s daughter Lauren is the one who tried to punch me.

Carl Sr.’s death notice was six printed pages long.

He spawned absolute assholes is all you need to know.

Fucking stay dead and take your fucking family with you, is all I have to say.

But how striking the community obituaries are.

Tony, a small in stature but giant of a man intellectually and emotionally, got one paragraph.

Fuckin Carl Sr. with the shitty fucking family got six pages.

When I bought the Derby/hot dog ticket, I truly thought maybe it’s time to stop beating these assholes and finally join them. Maybe I can make a difference around here if I just had some allies.

Then I thought, nah, and ordered the best tiramisu I’ve had in a long time.

Can’t wait till all their names are on the obituary wall.