A while back, I responded to a want ad on one of the job search sites.
Within a couple of days, I got an email from a company called Ace IT.
This company is peopled with nothing but Indians and probably owned by Indians as far as I can tell. It’s located in Austin, TX and after much back and forth, several “pre interviews” and their highly unprofessional cancellation of one of their “evaluations”. They finally got round to admitting that the position I’d applied for didn’t actually exist, but for an undefined “Fee” or fees they would accept me into their training after which I’d be sure to get a job, and they’d help…
In other words they wasted a ton of time trying to lure me into plunking out a bunch of cash to them buying “Training” then would in all likelihood not come through with any real position.
Based on my experience with them, I concluded they were a scam and disengaged.
Jump forward 4 months and they call again. They’re routed to voice mail and within seconds of them leaving a voice mail, there’s an email about the Software Quality Assurance position I “recently” applied for.
The email was addressed to “undisclosed recipients”
Uh huh…
The sender was a different person but the game was the same. In the intervening time, I have very specifically avoided anything to do with Ace IT so as not to waste my time.
Later in the day, I got another phone call that went to voice mail from yet another person, followed by the exact same email with a new sender’s name. Again the email was addressed to “undisclosed recipients”.
I was mildly annoyed, and again wondered if I should write a letter to the Attorney General of Texas to report these apparent scam artists.
While pondering what I would put in such a letter, I wondered if this sudden resurgence of Ace IT was due to more or less recent moves within the federal government. Specifically those moves concerning H1B visas.
Then my annoyance turned to a big smile.
Staffing firms have in recent years become overwhelmingly Indian, even those that were known for decades in my industry as being useful and reliable.
I haven’t spoken to a native English speaker at any recruitment firm for at least a decade.
Aerotek, who for years was my “Goto” staffing firm during the 1980s, ’90’ & 2000’s has been overrun by Indian workers. Back in the day, I had a particular guy at Aerotek that kept me working with pretty continuous contracts. We’d sometimes have lunch or meet for happy hour in Irvine. He’s long since gone and I haven’t spoken with anyone at Aerotek for at least a decade. I stopped dealing with them because they stopped being able to get me in front of hiring managers.
If Ace IT is desperate, and it appears that they are, it may mean that the Trump administration’s stance on H1B visas is having an impact. I love that.
If they’re not going to be able to funnel low wage, low quality H1B people from India into American jobs, they’re going to have to become a real recruiter or they’re going to have to close their doors.
I vote for the latter. I really hate people playing bait & switch. Especially when their game pollutes the actual hiring pool and creates postings for jobs that aren’t real.
I know I’m sounding more nationalistic, but the fact of the matter is these firms are nothing more than obstructions to the real job market. I’d like to see them all investigated for fraud and where applicable deportation or criminal proceedings.
The H1B system has been abused for decades and I’m all for it being completely reworked.
Who they are is a 3rd party vendor that works with many of the major health insurance companies.
They seem to be a bunch of paper pushers, whose job is to arrange things like in-home nurse assessments. Yeah, their name says it all. Complex Care Solutions, indeed adds complexity to your medical care.
In my case they forced me into some bullshit video assessment with a nurse practitioner.
After that one contact. Then they embarked on a campaign of twice weekly phone calls asking for me to review their service, or their nurse practitioner. They said they were gathering information for the insurance company. But I ask “Why?”
Surely that information was provided by my “Doctor” during our appointment, wherein he played on his computer for the entire appointment, but didn’t really examine me as a patient. In truth the entire appointment could have been handled on a video call and honestly the level of actual “care” I got, was about as impersonal or useful as WebMD.
They called again today mid-morning asking when my next Doctor’s appointment is.
Okay… That’s it!
Why do they, a third party, need to know that bit of information?
The insurance company will find out when they’re billed.
I called the insurance provider and asked what this was about. More importantly, I asked if this bullshit was necessary to the continuance of my policy.
Turns out, Complex Care Solutions can be cut right out of the equation. Which I did!
I explained that I was talking to Complex Care Solutions more than I talk to my own family. Every time I spoke with these people it was like I was talking to my own personal mother hen. There may come a time when I’ll need their services but not today!
A) I’m not keeping my current Doctor B) I’m actively researching and investigating new Doctors C) I’d like to keep my private medical information, oh I don’t know… private. D) They got real quiet when I mentioned privacy and cited HIPPA rules. Which thankfully I know due to previous employment (quarterly training will do that). They haven’t violated HIPPA, but as a patient, I have the ability to exercise at least some control over my personal information and who has access to it.
I may be over-reacting but it’s like they’re trying to rope me into some endless bullshit loop of living my life around the medical profession, insurance companies, and pharmaceutical companies.
Again… I’m not to that stage of the game.
But there’s another aspect to all of this. It’s billing.
I said it to the insurance company. “Just because I’m insured, doesn’t mean that I as The Insured should abdicate my responsibility to control costs.”
I don’t need their service or the attendant annoyance or billing from their phone calls. Believe me when I say, for each time they call me, they’re getting paid.
I also mentioned that I was less than pleased with my (Doctor of record) billing the insurance company almost $1000 for that single appointment. That’s obscene especially since the “physical exam” wasn’t in any way physical.
I mean, what happened to the days when the doctor looked at your eyes, ears, throat, felt the glands in your neck, did a cursory exam of your skin, listened to your heart & breathing, in the case of men, had you drop trou examined your naughty bits, maybe did a DRE, ordered up your blood work, asked if there was any concern you had, then took a look, made some suggestions, told you if there was any issue the blood work uncovered he’d call you, then swatted you on the ass and said, “Go Play!”
(Okay, maybe they didn’t swat you on the ass,) but it was personal and when you left the place you at least felt like you’d been seen. Maybe you felt a little violated, but you at least had some reasonable confidence that a professional who’d seen thousands of bodies, had in fact examined you and didn’t see anything glaringly obvious that needed immediate attention.
Personally, I didn’t mind being buck naked in the exam room and didn’t bother with those silly paper gowns or any pretense of modesty. It was the same mindset as being in the gym locker room. Who cared? The Doc was doing his job and that meant he was gonna see ya, all of you, including parts of your body you probably haven’t seen.
Today What passes for an “exam” might as well be done in a freaking board room.
Human bodies are messy, organic, and sometimes downright disgusting. I think that’s why, when I wrote the check for a yearly exam, I didn’t mind the expense.
That Doctor probably didn’t want to see another naked body by the end of the day. But it was his job, and his education gave him the baseline normal to compare against. The fee I paid was exchanging value for time spent & experience.
My favorite Doctor, spent our first appointment asking me about every scar on my body. “How’d you get that? When?” If I showed up with a new scar, he’d ask what that was about and if I’d had appropriate care when it happened.
That’s an intimacy that’s been lost, it was being seen and it felt like he gave a damn about me, the human standing naked in front of him or his nurse. Granted, if his nurse didn’t need to see me completely nude, he’d say something like, “Pull your boxers on, I’m going to need my nurse to…” do whatever needed doing.
Admittedly, I was comfortable putting my life in his hands because we had a relationship that was personal, and not based on how many billing codes he could tic on a form.
I knew he was a “Cookie Monster” with a fondness for home made chocolate chip cookies, well anything chocolate. I knew he performed in the Pagent of the Masters in Laguna Beach. I knew he was an avid bicyclist, and that often he’d bike to work. I knew he took his profession very seriously and when he lost a patient to illness it was personal to him. I knew his first whole name, and if I encountered him outside his office I never introduced him as “Doctor”. He was Tom. Why? Because if anyone knew he was a “Doctor” there were always people that tried to get free medical advice. If we happened to be at a social event I, among others kept an eye on him and would be rude to someone that had him “cornered” talking shop. He was respected, and he took care of a lot of my friends too. The man referred me when necessary, to other doctors that worked on him. If he trusted them, then so could I.
There’s nothing quite so comforting as coming out of anesthesia and seeing “Your Doctor” at the foot of the bed conferring with “The Doctor” that did a procedure on you. I remember snippets of their conversation. “Wow he’s got a mouth on him!”, “Yeah, but he’s a good guy, anything well need to follow up on?”, “Nah, he’s good, you might want to make a note that he’s cranky with this type of anesthesia.”, “Okay, thanks. I’ll hang out for a few minutes to see he comes out of it okay.”, “Hey thanks, I’m going to check on my next patient, we still on for… RIY&#%*^@ this Sunday?”, “huadiry7%$#3”
Then “My Doctor” prying one of my eyes open, “Hey, there you are… They’ve got you on O2, it’s the good stuff so breathe deep. There you go, nice & slow, trust me it’ll help clear your head. Apparently you were searing like a sailor at some point.”
“Muff uhh, probably like a Marine Doc. My friends… all Marines.”
I still remember his chuckle and the warmth of his hand on my forehead telling me to take it easy before I started moving around.
He was a healer, a man I trusted and no matter what, I knew he’d see me through.
That bond of trust, and confidence is missing these days. The humanity has been bled out of medical care.
Now it’s about how many different Doctors can get their finger in the insurance scam. How much can be billed and that’s dependent on sheer numbers of patients. At the same time the rates keep going up for less time spent with a patient the insurance companies keep jacking their rates, and plugging in more “services” that add nothing but opportunities to bill.
I’ve digressed, but I think it’s really important to remember what the title “Doctor” once meant. The profession was once about humanity, care, respect, and dignity.
When was the last time you felt like baking, individually wrapping, and labeling 2 dozen cookies with ingredients, then delivering them to your Doctor’s office before a holiday?
When was the last time you had your Doctor compliment you on weight loss, increased musculature, quitting smoking, your baking skills, or a custom holiday card made up of a photo you’d taken?
I honestly don’t know what the fuck is wrong with people but I’m so over it.
I’m spitting nails and perhaps I’m over reacting. But FUCK!
Way back when Jerry & I moved into the house after the fire. We’d had the fence replaced so the pups could run around in their yard. The fence was bright and shiny, it looked sterile as all galvanized fences look when they’re new. This was the second fence we’d paid for and installed on our property.
By on our property, I mean we’d made sure that the fence was well within our property lines because we didn’t want to have any issues down the road. We literally had the property surveyed twice! Once, when the house was being rebuilt, and the second time, just before the fencing guys came in and reinstalled the fucking fence.
We had a neighbor that didn’t do or like fences at the time, but she understood and agreed that the pups needed a place to run and play where they couldn’t get hurt.
She died. There there was the meth head rental lady. Then there was the cute couple who during the pregnancy with their second child installed a monstrosity of a badly constructed wooden fence. (She kinda went nuts because at the time, the county was widening the wash, in the name of flood control and that forced anyone walking to be close to their property line. She was in momma bear protective mode and was super fearful of someone coming up and taking one of the kids. Likelihood of that was somewhere around .0001% but she would not be dissuaded and eventually her husband capitulated, even though he hated the wooden fence she made him install.) Shortly after they had their second child they sold the place and moved. Leaving behind the poorly built wooden monstrosity. Another couple moved in, they stayed a few years then he was transferred to New Mexico and they moved.
That brings us to the guy currently next door. Honestly, I’ve tolerated him. I’ve always thought he was a bit too arrogant and he always loves to correct anyone. In fact he corrected me during a fire evacuation when I’d taken the time from the road to inform everyone on the neighbor group chat that the primary evacuation route had been closed and that everyone was being turned around to the alternate route. At the time I was literally sitting in traffic on the alternate route and said so in the chat.
But Jerry who I was talking to on the phone at the time because we always remained in communication during an evacuation saw the text and immediately said, “Be nice. Everyone is stressed.” I should have let this guy have it right then and there, but in deference to Jerry I kept my mouth shut.
Anyway, In all the time not one person said a damn thing about the grape vines that Jerry liked and had me plant along the inside of our fence. We tended the vines and every once in a while we’d get a bunch of grapes.
Truth to tell, we spent more in water than the vines ever produced. But Jerry liked the vines and as they spread out along the fence, they softened the fence line and made for a cool shady spot for the pups to relax in.
At the time we planted the grapes, we also planted an overly ambitious apple tree. By overly ambitious, I mean that tree produced apples from the first year. In fact we had to remove some of the apples long before they were ripe because the tree had bent over from the weight.
The past 3 years the grape vine has spread a little bit along the fence and in all 3 years it’s produced some small but very tasty grapes.
There’s a narrow walkway between the fence and my neighbor’s house. He has a gate through the wooden monstrosity of a fence and while he rarely uses that gate, occasionally one of the grape vines will send a tendril out towards the gate. When I’ve seen that happening I’ve trimmed the tendril, or threaded it back through my fence allowing it to grow and in time soften more of the fence line.
Typically, I’ll do this once or twice in a summer, but due to the possibility of snakes taking up residence in the space between the fence and this guy’s house, I’ve also weed whacked the zone. It’s not a big deal for me, it helps him out, and I don’t have to worry about the dog getting bitten by a snake.
A couple of weeks ago he mentioned that he wanted to trim the grape vine on his side of the fence and I thought nothing of it. I figured he’d use his fucking brain and just trim it like a hedge. That wouldn’t hurt the plant so I said, “sure whatever”
This week I noticed that the vines were dying off running the length of my fence. At first I thought, “Well it’s fall and that’s pretty normal.” I went ahead and started giving the vine more water so that It could go to sleep for the winter.
The die off continued. Today I was outside and noticed only the vines extending along the fence were dying off. The central plant was still green and vibrant. “That’s odd,” I thought. Then I examined more closely.
That moronic son of a bitch had cut the vines wrapped through the fucking fence! Then to make matters worse in typical liberal democrat fashion had just left them there to die.
I say typical liberal democrat because A) He is a Hollywood liberal democrat leftist (he’s a voice actor) and B) because that’s so leftist, “Make a mess and expect someone else to clean it up”
I spent the next 45 minutes removing all the formerly productive (grape bearing,) now dying parts of the vine that I’d been training through my fence for literally years.
I don’t know if the plant will survive. It’s going into its winter sleep and without the leaves and additional energy it might not survive the winter because now it’s trying to heal itself and go into winter sleep.
This jackass destroyed a decade of growth and I’m doubting that I’ll get any grapes next year. He did this to a plant growing on my fucking fence. Typically once the plant has gone to sleep, I’ll trim and prune the older dead branches so that when the plant wakes up I’ll get new growth.
I was talking to my brother on the phone when I discovered this while I was cleaning up the mess I’d been left with. My brother who’s not a plant person but had seen the vines was understanding that I’d be pissed off.
He was blown away that someone would do something like that in the first place then leave it like it was nothing.
His response was the usual for him. “Well that’s fucking Californians for you.” Then he asked if I lived in an HOA community, which I don’t. When I told him that, he said just wait for it, that neighbor is probably going to try to start one.
He sold his place in Florida because the HOA wouldn’t let him plant a couple of trees in his fenced in back yard. The HOA made him get rid of potted tomato plants he was growing on his upstairs front deck. They didn’t like the aesthetics of the plants being on the upper deck and then kept hounding him about the plants after he moved them downstairs to his back deck inside a fenced yard. The HOA went so far as to forbid any “food plants” from the community.
His revenge was to find a field of dandelions and collect their seeds plus a ton of crabgrass then liberally distribute both throughout the community, 5 days before the sale of his house closed in springtime. With spring rains in northern Florida I’m betting they’ll have to tear out and re – sod the whole community.
That’s the kind of fuckers we are.
As I said he’s not a plant guy, but he likes tomatoes.
(As an aside, he’s laughing his ass off that DeSantis is likely to sign a law that makes HOAs illegal in Florida.)
I’m furious about what this neighbor did to my grape vine. There are a lot of layers to it.
It’s a plant on my property
it was growing on a fence on my property
It was a plant Jerry liked
It provided a cool shady spot for Jesse
It represented 10 years of work and nurturing
The plant had just consistently begun to provide grapes
I’d actually offered to share the grapes with the fucking neighbor. (It’s not my fault he didn’t get his ass out there to harvest grapes before the birds & squirrels got to them. I had plenty.)
That vine gave me some green along the fence that brought me a sense of peace because in the midst of a mostly grey landscape, (Unless you looked at or walked through the forest above us,) there was a deep green that I enjoyed whenever I was out there.
I guess I feel violated.
This guy has literally removed all of the natural plants from his yard. While overgrown he could simply have trimmed them back. He’s also pretty much destroyed the beautiful Japanese maple that was growing for years in his back yard. That tree was green and watching it change with the seasons was amazing.
He stopped watering it, then pruned the shit out of it, (badly) and is essentially letting it die.
I’ve included pictures of what he left me with. The vine used to extend all the way to the fence post you can see at the left.
Oh and don’t forget, he just cut the vine near the main plant. He left all of the vine threaded through the fence to wither and die making it much more difficult to remove because as it dries out, it’s no longer flexible. The stuff growing up his wall is a bit of Virginia creeper. Why he decided to fuck up my grape vine and leave the creeper is a complete mystery.
I’m tempted to tell him, “If you want to kill a plant, cut it off at the root.”
Now when I go outside I get to look at the side of his house, his shitty gate, and the exhaust ports for his tankless water heater. If you visualize the plant growing up the fence extending all the way to the left you’ll get a sense of the green wall that afforded me some privacy If I was sitting on my lower deck enjoying the sunshine.
As the plant goes to sleep, I’m sure I’ll find more vines he cut through but for the moment I’ve removed all the obviously damaged parts of the plant.
If by some miracle I’m able to stay in the house, come springtime I’m thinking I’ll move the grape to my back fence where it won’t inconvenience the neighbor and I’ll plant something really invasive and fast growing like Virginia creeper along my fence next to his house. He can cut that all he likes, he won’t make a dent in it. I’m thinking I’ll toss some Mexican Sage into the area between the fence and his house and I’m not going to bother cutting down the weeds between his house and the fence. Once the Mexican sage takes hold He’ll have a jungle and a hefty fine every spring from the county for fire abatement.
I think there’s a kind of prickly fence edging I can lay down that snakes aren’t supposed to like crossing. I’ll let him deal with the rattlesnakes that may take up residence on his property.
Thinking about it, he might have heard me talking to my brother. I was using my new AirPods during the conversation while I was cleaning up the mess he left me. I think I recall seeing him wandering around the moonscape his yard is now.
I hope he did hear me talking to my Brother. I hope he heard exactly what I think of him.
Were it not so close to my bedroom, I’d start dumping all of Jesse’s poop on that side of the house too.
I feel like I’ve been too nice. I’ve not said word one about his incessant music, (Oh I’ve thought some bad things, I’ve even played my music loud enough that his was being drowned out,) I’ve not complained about him using a leaf blower on dirt kicking up dust clouds, I’ve not said shit about him running a chain saw in the early morning or in the evening when I sit down to dinner and watch a movie.
I’ve been the ”nice guy” a.k.a. The doormat everyone shits on. The guy that just minds his own business and tries really hard to not make waves.
I’ve got enough on my plate without fighting with the neighbors too. I’ve been too quiet, too forgiving, and in doing so people think they can ignore me or walk all over me. Until they need something… Because, “Hey he’s a nice guy… it’s okay for us to fuck him over.”
Jerry taught me to be nice. What I need to relearn is how to be a raging asshole. That appears to be the only way to survive the liberal fuckers these days.
The thunder & lightening in the sky mirrors my mood at the moment, But I love it so much I’m calming down rapidly enjoying the sound of rain on the roof, and rumbling in the sky.
It’s so calming for me. Even Jesse seems to be enjoying it. He’s curled up in the chair, head on the arm snoozing. He’s completely unbothered by the noise and that bodes well if we move someplace in the future that has weather.
What had me raging was I love the modern age!
NOT!
I’ve finally gotten to the point that I’m ready to donate Jerry’s car to a charity organization. It’s got over 300K miles on it, still runs, (although at the moment the battery is dead.) Nothing though that a little time on the battery charger wouldn’t fix.
So, I called the same veterans donation organization I called last year to get rid of the dead trucks.
Last year, getting rid of two trucks took one phone call to these folks. They collected the information, and they scheduled the pickup date in one phone call. They showed up on time, we filled out some paperwork and that was that. Military precision and efficiency.
96 hours later they sent me an email telling me what the trucks had sold for at auction and appropriate tax information.
It was a good experience. So I called them again on Thursday.
This time I was talking to a heavily accented Indian woman. Sigh…Last year it was an American dude, possibly a veteran. This year there was question after question and the woman was having a hard time understanding the answers. Last year, the guy answering the phone answered with the name of the organization I was donating to. The questions were few and straight forward.
This year the woman answered the phone as some weird donation firm and when I asked if she was part of the actual organization I was trying to donate to, she hemmed and hawed about it then said she was part of some donation clearing house that would direct my donation to the proper organization. Uhh, Okaaaay.
She didn’t schedule anything, she said someone would be calling me later. They didn’t call, they sent 4 text messages, and 3 emails. From a completely different organization. Okaaaay. One of the emails had a link to schedule the pickup. I clicked the link and scheduled a pickup for Monday. I got 2 more text messages and an email confirming the pickup date.
I heard nothing on Friday from any of the (now three) organizations.
This morning I was out walking the dog, then came home dropped him off at home and went out to run some errands. At some point my phone must’ve rung, but I didn’t hear it and didn’t look at my phone until I got home.
There was a voicemail, again heavily accented that said, “I’m calling you regarding your vehicle to be picked up.” That was it, nothing else.
AND????
About the time I’m thinking what the hell, and fuming about the complete lack of telephone etiquette, I get another text message and an email from the third organization saying that the pickup had been cancelled.
The email was asking if I still wanted to donate.
What the actual FUCK? Now I’ve got four different organizations involved in this chain of Clusterfuckery™ and apparently the vehicle is not going to be picked up.
Well yes, I do still want to donate the vehicle, but not to you!
What the hell is wrong with people? Do they not think that perhaps someone might have other things to do than exist to answer their phone calls?
I’ll find someone else, preferably someone that does not involve any of the last three organizations.
I mean, why is everything so damn complex?
Oh well, back to listening to the thunder and rain on the roof.
Lately on our morning walks I’ve been noticing a lot more trash.
This morning Jesse got to a chunk of pizza crust someone had most likely thrown from their car.
This terrifies me simply because there are those assholes in the world that would poison stuff like that just for kicks. They’re probably thinking of hurting wild animals but the reality is that it’s most likely innocent dogs and cats in the neighborhood.
Fortunately I was able to recognize what he had before he gulped it down. Once it’s down his throat there’s no getting it back. I told him to drop it but that was a lost cause. Once a street dog, always a street dog. It earned him a “Bad Dog” and just for kicks I dropped his leash and kept on walking. (We were in a safe place relatively close to home.) That really got his attention and he literally ran to me dragging the leash.
He sat in front of me looking very worried, then raised his paw. I was “Mad” so I ignored him, then he tried to jump up on me, I moved not letting him touch me. I started to walk again. He got in front of me and sat again looking up at me pitifully. He knew he’d done a bad thing.
I picked up the leash, and he walked right by my side the rest of the way home. We were nearing the 15 minute window when we got home (15 Minutes is about the maximum length a dog will worry about being scolded), so instead of taking him up the front steps and into the house, he went in the backyard via the gate in the fence.
When I got inside he was on the deck ears laid back and whining.
Point made… At the end of his “Timeout” I let him back in and he’s been very attentive since.
Hell, I can’t be mad at him for long. He gives me this face, and I melt.
Back to the original point, there’s now an old stereo receiver tossed on the embankment of the wash, Someone purposely left it there, it didn’t fall off a truck from someone moving. There are plastic and paper cups and other items at most of the road crossings along the wash. Things like broken lighters, vapes, empty cigarette packs, condoms, and even the occasional needle.
In the past during winter, we’ve had people leave trash, diapers, food wrappers, food boxes, empty beer cans, that kind of thing, but we’ve rarely had the quantity of trash I’m seeing now.
This is different. It’s purposely being left in areas that a car can park, empty their detritus and drive on. I don’t think it’s from visitors to town, nor do I think it’s trash blowing out of trash cans or trucks from the weekly trash pickup.
Something has changed. I wonder if it’s something in the makeup of the town itself. Even the walking path that’s maintained by volunteers is being trashed. Jesse insists on pooping there, but I’ve always cleaned up his mess, it’s becoming more of a problem now. There are a lot of people who don’t pick up after their dogs. That in turn makes him more likely to want to poop there.
You know it’s bad when one of the volunteers stops you on your walk just to say, “Thank You,” after seeing me fussing at Jesse not to poop on a bush or plant because it makes the cleanup so much harder. This person also thanked me for not letting Jesse kick dirt over the walking path and they’d seen me putting the rock boundary back as I walked the path.
These are all “normal” things from my perspective because I use the path and don’t assume anyone is going to clean up after me.
Even if Jesse & I are walking in the wilder areas I’ll clean up after him, and carry the poop back to the house. (Unless he’s done his thing off the various trails in the bushes.) I do this because there are people who run, walk, and ruck, through those areas. Avoiding deer and bear poop is hard enough without adding dog poop to the mix.
There’s more trash and debris around the buildings in town too. It’s like the people who’ve moved in over the years have reached a critical threshold where they’re just completely uncaring about it. They seem to assume “Someone else will take care of it”. The critical threshold is that there are more of those that don’t care if the town looks like a trash heap, than there are who’ll clean it up.
There are trash cans conveniently placed throughout town, and even secured bins along the walking trail. There are even free poo bag dispensers conveniently placed equidistant between the secured bins so cleaning up along the walking trail shouldn’t be that big an inconvenience.
The poo bag dispensers have saved me more than once with Jesse. I’ve got bags on the leash but there have been times when I’ve used the last bag and Mr. Sneaky decides to go one more time, than I have bags to clean up with.
It’s just that people don’t seem to care.
It makes me wonder if maybe I should sell before the town is so trashy people don’t want to live here.
