Small Cabin
Sunday, September 8th, 2024 11:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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57F and clear tonight.
Wish the cool weather was here to stay, but they're calling for 90F again by Wednesday.
That's the torture of September.
I spent the entire day and night in the flat on Saturday... never even opened the door.
I did that the previous Sunday... day before Labor Day... which was the first time.
I'm not saying it's necessarily healthy to stay inside like that for an entire day and night, but... the fact that I've become comfortable enough here to do it, is a bit of a breakthrough.
My tried and true digital watch; the Samsung S3 Classic from 2017 finally gave up the ghost this weekend.
I knew it was coming, because I could no longer reboot it... but then it somehow shut down by itself, and cannot be booted back to life.
I did finally upgrade to a Galaxy Watch6 Classic, which got here on Friday, but they didn't include a charge block for the charger with a USBC plug on the end of it.
That'll hopefull be here, via Amazon, tomorrow, but probably not in time to charge it before work.
My tried and true beard trimmer grooming kit... also from about 2017... is also on it's last legs.
So I ordered a new grooming kit tonight.
The watch & trimmer are just the two latest of prized objects from better days, which refuse to go with me into the future.
Back around Easter, while walking Yvette, I dropped my prized old coffee thermos of some seven years, and it broke!
I'm used to the new one now, but it'll never be as good as the old one with the flip lid.
But not everything gets old and lost to time.
There are a lot of things with me here in the flat that date back a long way.
Cups, candle holders, and other keepsakes from long ago.
But with my car still full of stuff I salvaged from the house, that wouldn't fit into the storage unit... out there beyond the bean field... where so much more sits quietly in the dark...
I think a lot about how hard won our posessions really are.
I've talked about this flat being a small room in a big building before...
But my take on that has changed, and now I see it as a small cabin in a big rescue ship.
My ship went down, and now here I am... with the things I could manage to save... in my little cabin on the SS Allerton... still processing the distaster I barely survived.
And they'll be happy to host me for as long I can pay the rent!
And this port's got a lot of it's own charm and character.
But I do still long to have my own house again.
Even if it's just a little house... I'd like a little lawn to mow, and a couple trees to prune... and a cat and a dog again.
I will say, Zam... my one plant here in the flat, is doing pretty good now, after a bit of a trial with dying leaves the first several weeks.
He's finally looking healthy and happy... and I do enjoy his company.
I've found that in the absence of pets, and with only one plant... candles really do help to bring that feel of life to the place.
Cezar, who I work with... the day mechanic who overlaps with Tom & I for 90 minutes... used to work at the casino here in downtown Aurora.
I've written before about how that casino is kind of a blight, and a was a bad idea.
In the early 1990s, they were gambling on it to be the thing that brought downtown back to life, and spurred all kinds of growth.
But all they did was build two huge parking garages near the facility, with tunnels to suction everybody in to gamble... without any exposure to the outside world.
So it didn't help anything at all down here, but Cezar, who worked there for 15 years doing maintenance... really bowled me over on Friday with the inside scoop on how many suicides that place was responsible for!
Those two parking garages... one five stories tall, and the other, seven stories tall... were the REGULAR jumping off points for gamblers who'd lost it all in that casino!
It's right off the bridge of course, over the river too, so there were always people jumping into the river, but those ones often survived!
He rattled off six anecdotes in rapid succession, of garage jumpers he'd either witnessed first hand, or was on the scene for, just after the fact.
It was a regular weekly occurence down here for over a decade!
And he said he never heard about a single one in the news!.. something I can corroborate, having lived in Aurora that whole time, and being shocked to learn of this!
He thinks the casino had to be paying people off to keep it all on the down low.
And I wouldn't be at all surprised if that was true!
These probably weren't people with tons of loving family around who'd know where they were... notice they'd gone missing... and demand answers!
So... it's just another sad tale of American capitalism, where cars and malls destroy a downtown, and inner city life gets harder as safety nets get removed... until a town is so desperate to get some foot traffic that it hangs it's hopes on a casino.
And all the casino does is suck in the people who are on the brink... empty their bank accounts... and shuttle them back up to a perch, from which they can leap to end it all.
Happily, the casino is leaving soon... to a fully land-based operation on the edge of town.
Happily, at least, for downtown.
Not so happy for the liminal corn field they'll develop off the interstate... to stain with the blood of those in financial despair.
But at least it will be a liminal corn field off the interstate, and not the heart of a town!
I feel so bad now, for what's happened down here, because I already knew there were a lot of gang related deaths back in the 1990s as well!
So these streets have a dark past... but those parking garages?... oh, God!
Those two, hulking, ugly parking garages by the casino... those big box monstrosities... will be cursed and haunted for as long as they stand!
I mean... don't get me wrong here!.. I DO think parking garages are a good thing in a downtown.
They're the best solution for parking, but... if they're ugly?... that's not great.
And if they're death machines?.. well, that's just... abominable!
I am happy to report, however, that I've never heard of a single person jumping from the tower I'm living in... over it's near 100 year life.
And it would not be hard to do!
If my AC wasn't in the way, I could jump right out my window!
Anybody can go to the north stairwell, open the sash, and jump right out that window too!.. on whatever floor.
I could walk right up that stairwell to 20, and be out the window in no time!
But nobody's ever done it (and I'm not gonna do it either) because this is the good place... and the rescue ship... with the beacon of hope high over the roof.
Whenever I meet somebody in the elevator and tell them I'm new here, they're very pleased and welcoming!
I've yet to see a person in the building who's depressed or despairing.
Not that it's a utopia, but the vibes here are good!
At worst... it's extremely zen... in silent solitude up here in the sky, over the river.
At best?.. it's very lively and positive!
Much as I see Dad's house now, as a dark and empty vessel, jealously guarded by his malevolent spirit... welcome no more to life or happiness... because of one dark soul... I see this tower as the opposite.
This tower is guarded by a multitude of good and grand old souls... who pick and choose whom to welcome aboard, based on vibes!
I mean, it's not a luxury high rise for the rich!.. it's a working class apartment building.
But you don't choose this building... it chooses you!
And I don't mean the management chooses you.
I mean the building itself, as embodied by good spirits of old, decides who it wants to live here... based on vibes.
I only thought to apply here at all because of one push notification off HotPads, totally unrelated to the searches I'd been doing.
And I was lucky to call in the vanishingly brief window where they had a single vacancy!
When I tell people I'm new to the building... they're so pleased and surprised because it's RARE!
Our possessions are hard won, and those we can hold onto for life are very few and precious.
And holding on to any kind of home and stability is just as difficult.
Some generations get lucky and have it easier... but most are doomed to re-learn these time-worn lessons.
Way back in March of 23, I wrote about walking the tight rope.
And given all that's happened since then, I should've fallen off that rope!
But somehow I'm here... in my small cabin on the rescue ship... with some kind of future still possible.
°¦}
