WHAT IS A LIFE WORTH??

Robert - A puzzlement

 Dear Reader, you who be 'au fait' with, know that there is always a point when the gloves come off and the true 'sharing' flows across these pages.  That time has come again and the old geezer has much to share today with you.

I would suggest that you settle in with a nice cuppa and read.  Mind, the tale to tell will be wordy so one might have to read it all in several sittings.  That be OK, as the old geezer can always use the 'hits' to me blog...

Truth be told, LIFE for the old geezer has not felt worth the effort of late.  Medical worries added much stress and the well meaning email from a reader about the orphanage the old geezer grew up in did not lighten the stress,  added to, to be sure.  That is the way of it...

Readers know the old geezer to have PTSD, and the attack had did much to change me life of late.  The email sent opened memories of trauma felt in past and it felt like it was happening all over again in the here and now.  Flashbacks did me in and it did not help that the old geezer was coping with lame leg and loss of hearing at the same time.  Right, a regular trip round the 'pity pole'...

The 'Big Kahuna', "Hilo Hattie" and others much loved did all they could to help in hours of need but ti was not enough.  It was time for real hands on professional help.  I packed a small bag aid disappeared to the mainland.  Not to party but to get things all sorted out.

The old geezer went to hospital.  In London, hospital would be call the 'Priory', where Susan Boyle went when she had her famous melt-down.  "The Funny Farm"...

Two weeks of help and the old geezer was sorted out.  Or was he? 

Sort of, but it was time to put the pieces together and make some sense of what is to come in life.  Was living in Hilo the answer?  Was the hostel chat up of world travellers the answer?  Did the promise of the future lie on the mainland?  What was the old geezer to do?

My dears, the old geezer listens to the folks met in life.  Of late, the stories heard the loudest have been from the superior folks passed through the doors of the hostel, The Big Kahuna, Ron, Hilo Hattie, James and to be true, others who do not like to be mentioned publicly.  I forget little and remember long...

Robert - Work in Progress

Sorting out the stories, the old geezer asked self if he had 'value'.  Was there worth to the days to come.

For some time, MOI was not sure.  Doubt.   Is that the way of it from time to time in life?

There was a time when the old geezer thought he could save the world.  Or at least change it.  Truth be told, globally never, but on the small patch occupied certainly.  I can live with that.

Some thought was given to living in a small town in California.  Way up North.  For a spell that looked like the answer but have come to realize that it was for all of the wrong reasons.  I would have put someone much  cared for out too much and that is not right.  Last thing wanted is to cause worry.  Worry to the point of calling out the coppers ti find the old geezer and being listed as a 'missing person'.

The past always hold the answers to the future.

James and Chandra, in Sacramento, being visited as I sit and bang away on me machine, have provided the old geezer with a view of a future less troubled.  Not without some rocks to kick out of path but certainly less worry.

The old geezer is out on queer street at the moment.  Cash has been depleted and funds will not arrive until next month.  Me bad.  No one to blame but ME.  Were it not for the kindness of James and Chandra, the old geezer would be sleeping uncovered.   The lovely couple have been put upon by the old geezer and it is a shocker to find out how much they love the old geezer, as do the children.

The old geezer did warn you at the beginning that the post today would be wordy.  Did I fail to warn of the intimate details to come with?  I do so apologize.

Cheeky buggers that many of the readers of me blog be have oft told that the pages of this very public diary touch most when the old geezer reveals much personal side of me life.  Granted, I do tend to use colourful language and play tricks with, but that is done to keep you interested AND to be odd and different.  Truth be told, the old geezer can write quite plain and correct.  Fancy that, but what is the trick in that?

The old geezer has lost much of late along with the pounds carried.  Must do updated snap, I am so very much thinner...

My life will have as much value as I allow.  I do passionately believe that.  I have a strong feeling that James and I will do battle for the good of folks in a community once lived.  James being much more the leader that the old geezer.  I think that is where the future lies.

I never meant to cause the Big Kahuna worry.  Never was there a more gentle man.  One should never put folks loved to grief and this old geezer owes him too much already.  The life at the hostel as 'tea and tidy' was lovely.  Not being able to walk robbed me of that.  No pay packet but buckets of ALOHA.  For The Big Kahuna(folks are not travelling as much), Albert(job lost), Norman.  The list could go on and on, you get the picture, the old geezer is not the only person to have grief.

I may be down at moment but know now that I am not 'out'.

JAMES RUNS TIGHT SHIP

"You never know someone until you live with them", old adage that applies here. Each and every new soul coming into the Somerset Apartments is a neighbour.

Or so, James, my mate who runs a troubled complex believes.

 A neighbour one is going to have to deal with and sort out if the promise of 'good' is not realized. Risk? Is there any kind of life without risk?

Were it a perfect world, brilliant folks near, would be beating down the door to live here. They are not. Were it a perfect world, all who wanted flats here would make buckets of cash and go to work every day. All do not. Perfection would be to not see folks so down on luck. for whatever reason. Economy has forced many to down-size living, making the flats at the Somerset Apartments the only place to go. Folks on benefits, with limited incomes, have few options. The Complex is not a perfect world, just a complex seeking to be more brilliant and attract tenants who will add to the brilliance to come.

Having vetted all, James is of opinion that new tenants will add to the mix nicely here. Mind, James is  not GOD and there is always the possibility that lies have been told to. There may be problems. One has to have faith.

What James  knows is this. All of the folks moving have been told what is expected of. Rules have been explained to in great detail. Flats have been made as good as possible, knowing that more might have been done, but realizing that price limits the benefits one can add to a unit. Nothing is broke, and every effort has been made to right all wrongs in units. No lies have been told and no false promises made.

What passed as acceptable in past, no longer flies here. Tenants are given every opportunity to enjoy flats in comfort, knowing that repairs will be made if needed. Make do with horrid is no longer an option. Folks who want more out of life than drugs and cheating the system are the goal. The landlord does care and management listens.
James will always remember being told by management of past; "You must allow poor folks grace, give special treatment to, they have nothing and are owed that." Rubbish. Am not scraping the bottom of the barrel anymore, am determined to siphon off the Crème de la Crème of poor but honourable folks looking to live in a safe, clean environment. Bravo James...

MEMORIAL DAY 2011

Thank You, for your service.