Update

Ahhh, life what a interesting ride...

While we were in Denver, Jeanne met a producer for a national TV show. They are doing a TV show on first time home buyers in Miami. She told her about my story with taking care of my mom and all the offers I have made. She's very interested and she said she would call me.

She did call me and sent me over an email application. She then called me and also said I had to obtain a Location Release from the landlord that would give the crew permission to film on the rental premises. My first thought was, "OHHH FUCK!!! FUCK FUCK FUCK....FUCK"

Why did I think that? Ahhhhh, sit back and relax my friends....

My mom never learned how to drive so she had to live close to where she worked. That's the primary reason she rented here for such a long time. I have been living here for 22 years. Yeah I know. It's not like it's a nice neighborhood but at least all the criminals know me and leave me alone. So this landlord bought this place in 1985, five years after we had already been living here.

I have NEVER seen the landlord. He's this anonymous guy that send his dad to do all his dirty work. His dad is 70 years old, speaks no English (what else would you expect in Hialeah?!?!) and I had to explain a Location Release to this guy? It would be easier to bake cookies with my asshole. But whatever, I'll give it a try. NO! Not the baking, the explaining. Sicko.

So I call the guy's father and tell him the entire story. He seems to understand. Now, at this point, I am 90% sure the mythical 'son' does not exist and that it is a front for the 'dad' to evade responsibility. He says he would take to release to his son and let him decide.

The next day I go on a business trip to Atlanta. I get sick on the trip. Some chick gets scared of getting married and the world barely notices that North Korea tested a missile. I have a sense of deep disquiet. Could these things be related? Did the missile carry a virulent cold strain that made it to Atlanta? Did this chick get sick also? What about the missile? Did it also have a business deal in Atlanta?

As all this was happening, I get a phone call while in the conference. The dad says his son won't sign. Yeah, I was expecting that.

Me: "He won't?"

Dad:"No."

Me: "Why not. I'm a good tenant. I never pay late."

Dad:"I told him so. He says he had a previous bad experience with a TV crew and doesn't want to repeat it."

I think to myself. "BULLSHIT!!!!! BULLSHIT!!!! What previous experience? Like there are tons of camera crews that want to film your fucking rinky dink, crappy, unkempt buildings! Yeah, if they want to get you freaking arrested for being a slumlord!"

Note: My internal dialog was fueled by deep emotion and is not intended to portray my current living arrangements as a slum. Although it is a blue collar neighborhood and it is most definitely unkempt, there is plenty of hygiene to go around.

I THOUGHT that, but I SAID:

Me: "That's too bad. You know, I would like to clear things up with him [the mythical son] so I can make my case personally. Can I talk to him?"

Dad:"No, that won't be possible. He doesn't give out his phone number to anyone."

Me: "Ahhh, I see. Well, you know what? When I get back to Miami, I will search the court documents and find out his address and give him a visit so we can clear this up."

Dad:"uhhhhhh...ok...that's your right. you an do whatever you want"

I get a phone call 1 minute later. It was the dad telling me that if I made certain changes to the release he would sign.

I then get a phone call from Jeanne (my girlfriend, not my boss) telling me that she was admitted to the hospital.

I get back to Miami and find that Jeanne had complications from mistreated bronchitis. She had gotten pleurisy. What is it with lung distress, the stuff follows me around....

So she's in the ER and she tells me that she's been walking around. The staff really doesn't like this because their machines go crazy. They run over to her bed and it's like The Rapture. There's nothing in patient Sullivan's bed. The diodes, heart monitor, blood pressure cuff, every medical instrument is lying on the bed. Is the end of the world near? Is she one of the first to ascend to Heaven? Uhhh. no... she just wanted to go pee and take a walk.

After several hours, she gets assigned to a room on the 7th floor. Yet another religious coincidence...

She gets a roomie that is about twice her age and speaks no English. I say "Hi", and I IMMEDIATELY find out that she was here for her vesicula (gall-bladder), she had complications and her side really hurt, her best friends were in the hospital so they couldn't visit her, she called her niece that morning but she made her promise not to tell her family about it because she thought she would only be there for a day or two but she had been there for a week and she didn't like the food.

I said, "It happens". I mean, what was I SUPPOSED to say?!?!?!?

But there's more, Jeanne finally makes friends with more nurses and she begins to get better care.

Then she encounters, Ms. Alzheimer's. You see, Jeanne (my girlfriend, not my boss, Jeanne my boss has nothing to do with this particular story) had developed a little routine. She gets up and walk all around the entire 7th floor. I'm not sure if she did it 7 times, but it would've been a nice touch.

In her wanderings, she passed by a lady that had Alzheimer's. This lady, Ms. A, was driving the nurses crazy. She had delusions of paranoia and thought that everyone was conspiring against her. She would kick the nurses and had a less than pleasant habit of throwing applesauce at them. Every time, someone would pass by her door, she would pound one fist into her open hand an scream, "COÑO!!!!" Jeanne would simply smile and says "Dios te ama" and wave. Guess what? Dementia be dammed!!! Jeanne won her over! Now, every time, Jeanne wandered by, Ms. A would wave at her. I'm not sure if the coño's stopped. I can attest that as I walked by, she saw us and she didn't do a "coño" but she was busy coughing up a nice juicy piece of phlegm, but I suspect she was thinking it.

Then we have the infamous 7th floor Don Juan. Once again, Jeanne is wandering about and she passes by the nurse's station and a nurse and a male reparatory tech are joking around. They ask if Jeanne would be offended at raunchy jokes. She says no and they tell jokes for a minute or two. Jeanne leaves and tells them both that if they are bored they can come talk to he because she is also bored. 5 minutes later the respiratory tech (Don Juan) comes in Jeanne's room.

DJ is walking in the room.

Jeanne: "Hello, I'm getting dressed. Wait outside."

DJ: "Don't do anything in there that I wouldn't do." Jeanne jumps under the covers.

DJ: " I have a machine that will help you."

Jeanne: "Really?"

DJ: 'Yeah, let me bring it over."

DJ brings over a 'lung massager' that is used on the patient's back to loosen phlegm.

DJ: "Here. This machine can massage your shoulder and side where you were having pain. You can also use it on 'other places' but if you do I have to watch"

Jeanne recovers quickly and says, "In the shape I am in, that's the furthest thing from my mind."

DJ leaves but come back later at night. He begins to teach Jeanne how to use the machine to massage her shoulder & back. He starts to move to the front of the shoulder and Jeanne tells him, "That's enough. I really don't need that there. Bye!" I BET he wanted to massage there! THAT BASTARD!!! I told Jeanne to file a complaint but I think he got the message and he has not been on the floor since.

So I come home and leave the documents for my landlord to give to his son. I talk to my neighbor and I find out the the dad really does have two sons. But are they the owners?? I do some research and I find the owner of my building. It's not the same name but not different enough to convince me that they are different people. I do more research and I pull up all of the mortgages, Warranty Deeds and Quit Claim Deeds on the owner. Yeah, the signatures ( I have the dad's signatures on my rental receipts) are completely different. The son does exist.

By now it's May 1. Rent is due. I decide to withhold payment since I have not heard from the Dad.

Dad:"Hi. You forgot the check"

Me: "No. I am still waiting for the papers to be signed"

Dad:"No. That has nothing to do with your rental payment."

I manage to divert the conversation. We're screaming at each other now.

Me: "Fine, tell your son that I will be at his home tonight to discuss this."

Dad:"You can't do that! You don't know where he lives"

Me: "Isn't his name Juan?"

Dad:"Yes"

Me:"Isn't his wife's name Maria?"

Dad:"Yes"

Me: "Doesn't he live in Coral Gables?"

Dad:" What? Why have you been researching this?"

Me: "Because it's public information"

Dad:"Well, you may pass by but he eats out, he may not be there"

Me: "That's fine. I'll wait. He has to come home sometime to sleep. And then I'll be there."

He REALLY didn't like that...I get a phone call 1 minute later,

Dad: OK OK OK...I got in touch with my son and he said he'll sign if you make certain changes"

One week later, I call the dad again since I don't have the paper yet. He gives me some BS story and I tell him that I will see his son tonight. We had it out big time and I told him that I would withhold my signature on the rent check for his son's signature on the release document. It seems to me to be a fair deal but the dad doesn't think so. I also tell him that I won't be paying the full month's rent. I will deduct the deposit that my mom left when we moved in. He has yet another cow (I almost killed the old guy that day) and says I can't do that. I say why not? He goes into a rage about how much respect he had for my mom but that wasn't the agreement they had, blah blah blah. What he proposed to do was have me pay the full amount of rent and he would return the per diem for the days under 31. That's a losing proposition for me, I would never get the deposit back!!

THEN, I get a mysterious phone call on my cell phone with ID withheld. Guess who?!?!?!? That infamous son finally contacts one of his tenants!! I spoke to him and he refused to sign, fine, that's his right, but I was out for blood. I told him I would not pay the full amount, only the net amount. He reluctantly agrees to this. What an ordeal! Am I pissed, not really. Why? I got a phone call the next day from a producer, apparently I don't fit their demographic profile. They have too many single males on the show and would not be using my story...THOSE BASTARDS!!!! BUT at least I got my deposit back!!!!!

But I still have to tell you the story of Don Juan #2!

Some guy that Jeanne has only talked to on the phone and through emails tried to find out her room number so he could personally deliver flowers to her. He then tries, on two separate occasions, through two different people to find out Jeanne's HOME address so he can deliver the flowers to her...personally of course...freak...

In getting my place for habitation I do some electrical work (that's another funny story but you'll have to ask me to tell you in person, if you wanna hear it) and I send out invitation to paint. The combined effects of Jeanne's (which one?) illness and the SEVERE paucity of other people willing to help me out left only me and KAYLA (THANK YOU KAYLA!!!) painting.

So we're painting away and my handyman shows up. Unbeknownst to me Bahamians (Kayla) & Jamaicans (my handyman) don't usually get along. Those two were going at each other constantly! I wish I had a video camera. That was some good humor!

So Rohan (the handyman) does the drywall around the circuit breaker box and leaves for a couple of hours so it can set. Kayla and I are painting and cleaning away. I see the breaker panel there and I leave it alone. ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM is a bunch of stuff that I cleaned up. Screws, papers, etc. that I threw down the garbage chute. Rohan returns and has a fit! He says where are the screws? I say what screws? He points to a place where there was a bunch of trash (or so I thought). He says NO! That was not trash, those were the screws for the breaker box and they are special screws that come with the box ONLY. I proceed to school him in simple logic. If the screws are from the panel, it would stand to reason that you would put the SCREWS NEXT TO THE PANEL! I thought that was obvious but I like to think in simple terms. I should know better than to try to think at the level of a Jamaican. They're at the forefront of philosophical & logic thinking you know...the dreadlocks are just there to throw us off.

The guy tells me that those are special screws and they have special bits on the ends that are only available when buying a new box. I ask him won't normal machine screws work? He says no, you SHOULD use the ones made for it. I tell home, well, you SHOULD always use a condom too, but do you? That shut him up. I find out later he has a son.

Later in the day I went to an ACE hardware store and talked to an electrical guy. He said the screw thing was BS. He got me a GE breaker panel, fit 4 screws to it and sold them to me for 0.45. Case closed.

THEN, at work, Jeanne decides to go on a cruise and then a convention. I just got there! At AMEX she left me stranded whilst having her baby and I had to run the show for a few months. Here, I have NO IDEA of the industry, it's regulatory environment or it's processes and I find out that I have 2 weeks to design and implement a brand new process that could involve about 1,500 people and up to $300 million dollars. OK, it's sort of like building a budget..not building a budget over a 365 day time period but a 14 day time period! I have had no time to rest! And Jeanne traipsing about Seattle! In between the interminable meetings with people who PRETEND to speak English but really just string together random noun with a verb or two, the actual work, and the redoing of the actual work due to a second meeting, I have to find some condo insurance.

Well, that's quite enough for now....