It is to be predicted that unpleasantness happens but no one likes to think it really will.  Yet it does.  And it did. We learned this morning by telephone call from the Property Manager of our new digs that the elevators are not working; at least they are not approved by the certifying agency to be useable. This impacts our scheduled move on the morning of November 2nd.  Apparently the elevator people were recently on strike. Now that they are back in gear they are first attending to the most urgent places such as hospitals and nursing homes.  Our place pointedly qualified as a “retirement” residence but even so they do not anticipate approval of the lifts until late in the afternoon on November 3rd by which time we have planned to be miles away.

To the credit of our Property Manager she proposed we maintain the scheduled delivery of our possessions on November 2nd but added that the Landlord will have on site additional workers to assist with the transport of goods to our second floor residence.  Everyone including the movers (whom naturally we alerted to this glitch) agrees that it is a slight accommodation and certainly less egregious than having to cart stuff up three floors for example. Our movers said they will have extra staff on hand as well.

So for the moment the performance of our move has returned to Middle-C. While absorbing this latest intelligence we recalled that when our current Landlord John H. Kerry bought the place we’re in now he and his second wife Donna encountered a similar obstruction when they initially moved into the apartment. The elevator was not working. They were obliged to have their belongings carried three floors. This small echo is more notable because John H. Kerry died only days ago on October 20th, his wife Donna having predeceased him. It evokes stirring memories and adds texture to life’s sometimes unobserved but perpetual evolution all about us.

To celebrate this untimely event and our manifest recovery from its momentarily destabilizing interruption I went to Tea & Cake bakery on Bridge St this afternoon to collect a box of superb lemon tarts. There was neither butterscotch pie nor carrot cake which I suspect would have been my first choice.  But we’ll bear the deprivation! This evening’s meal is devoted to getting rid of whatever remains in the refrigerator and pantry. Significantly this is the last meal we’ll have in this apartment. Our tenancy covered more than eight years. In anticipation of arrival of the movers tomorrow morning to pack things, we’ve devoted time to clearing whatever debris or unnecessary things we haven’t need for. I have an early morning appointment tomorrow so I’ll effectively abandon the apartment at an early hour. I’ll be lugging with me the few remaining bags of which I have immediate use or need.

At about the cocktail hour this evening we anticipate the arrival of our housekeeper and her son to remove our antique large screen TV and whatever goes with it. So we won’t be watching TV this evening. “Streaming” I understand is the latest rage in any event; viz., using one’s computer screen upon which to download shows from the internet. It reflects a more condensed (and likely accessible) delivery manner in which to “watch TV”. Technology has given a peculiar definition of democracy to the world; viz., ubiquitous personalized gadgets (phones, watches, laptops, computers) on equal terms to a vast majority. The universe of variety is changing to one of uniformity. Though we wouldn’t have to stress ourselves over differences, it is nonetheless reminiscent of the good times and learning we had among people who were different.