Agenda

It's that time again. Please observe the agenda closely as it will become relevant to this chapter (go figure). 

Actual agenda, blur mine.

Here I'm torn. While I disapprove, I desperately want to be the one to ring the buzzer when the attendees’ three minutes are up. In case you missed the message, here it is again at the bottom of the agenda in smaller text.

The fine print.

That's right, drunken ranting is out. This is a new rule. Earlier boards drank freely to endure the three hour meetings. Then someone spoiled it for everyone with a particularly drunken rant. Knowing how important alcohol is to the Castle I've posted this notice in the elevator, by the agenda, in an attempt to boost attendance. Drawing is being held after the meeting not to curb drinking but to curb attrition. I don't think it will work. I can't afford that expensive a bottle of wine.

Now to more thoroughly cover a topic on this meeting's agenda, "sprinkler installation". Not unlike the mafia, the fire department is putting the crunch on the Castle, squeezing us dry in the name of fire safety. They keep a watchful eye on us, which is not hard since the Pasadena Fire Department is located directly behind the Castle to insure everyone's maximum enjoyment of their alarm. Unless you live in the Castle you wouldn't know how many pyros are located centrally in Old Town Pasadena. I know the firemen by name, because they're here every weekend. As a condition of being able to hold events (weddings) at the Castle, a personal fire attendant is mandatory and runs $1000 per wedding. The fire department has now required the mass installation of sprinklers in every hall, apartment, bathroom and ballroom at Castle Green. It's obvious, to me at least, they're getting a kickback from the sprinkler installation company.

Sprinkler installation has been epic and going on for a few months now. In deference to the historic nature of the Castle and its interiors, which are painted the color of fine linen, all the sprinkler components are orange. Installation has made it to our floor. All my pretty furniture which I keep in the hall (an antiqued black iron Mickey Mouse coat tree, a bench, a wardrobe and 3 dollhouses) to give us more space and brighten everyone's day is now crammed in our apartment. Whatever of their furniture residents declined to bring in, is swaddled in layers of plastic at the end of the 4th floor hall.

We ourselves have been encased in plastic, on and off during sprinkler installation. They leave a narrow passageway of plastic if requested so we can slide out our doors and move through the hall behind a curtain of plastic. This is not an exaggeration. Here is a picture of a friendly installation guy just outside my door. He is encased in a nuclear fall out suit. Note, I do not have a suit, helmet or any sort of protection. Neither does my dog.

Back to the meeting agenda; scroll up if you have to. First is the executive session. This is the "members only" section of the meeting, hence the most intriguing and highest damage. This is where the decision was made to let the 83 year old elevator operator go (a mistake), and where plans were hatched to overthrow the Friends of Castle Green and put the Home Owners Association in charge of "Tour". This is where today it reads "board member actions/resolutions".

Following this secret part of the meeting residents are allowed to enter and observe. I enter and collect names for the door prize. Only non-board members, those who don't have to be there, qualify for my drawing. Excluding me and Leif, since it's my contest, this comes to three entries. 1. Owner T Capote, his unmarried daughter and their Pomeranian (the nonprofit Friends of Castle Green).  2. Owner Ryan (one time president of the HOA till his affair with the then Castle Events Coordinator) and 3. An owner I know not, but she is sitting on the floor doing unrelated paperwork to survive the ensuing boredom.

The meeting starts. The two board members who say nothing, with the exception of “I second it”, say nothing. The board member who skyped it in the last few meetings is physically present at this one. He appears to have replaced The Victorian as HOA Treasurer, but has not prepared a report so he is reading one off a crib sheet. The Victorian is here in a brown linen, I assume Victorian, suit behind his Mac Air Book. Marilyn, president of the HOA as well as the mysterious colonial society with offices in the Castle basement, presides. 

First up they congratulate each other on the harvesting of the castle's vineyard, an asset none of the residents were aware of till now. I  wonder why a pot garden wasn’t selected for the space instead, since our board president has written several pro cannabis treaties for Pasadena Weekly. 

Next Owner Ryan, though it's past open forum, pipes up with his long held fantasy of making the elevator operators wear uniforms. Feb, the building manager informs him this was tried, but revealed to be cost prohibitive as the elevator operators kept gaining and losing weight. Next on the agenda is "Winter Tour". Tour, if you've missed it, is when the Castle and its residents open their doors to the paying public for no holds barred (except the crap hidden in the basement) viewing. The proposed theme this winter is "A Dickens Christmas".

I raise my hand to speak (this seems to be the etiquette for babbling post open forum) and say "Wouldn't that have to be kind of grimy?” I picture the Castle decorated as a poor house with Tiny Tim limping through collecting tickets. "No" says the president, "more Victorian". The actual Victorian now looks up from his Mac Book and says, "Dickens was an earlier period". He is ignored. Then T. Capote raises his hand and interjects how tour has gone to hell since The Friends of Castle Green were overthrown. He grows increasingly frantic but his daughter keeps him in check, refilling his glass. It must be ice water with a lemon since boozing during meetings is prohibited. It wasn't when Owner Ryan was HOA president. He'd bring his own bottle embellished with high tech contraptions intended to keep the contents fresh under all conditions and boring intervals. The meeting moves on to new fabric for the ballroom drapes. Our board president is very anti old for a president of Castle Green and a colonial society. Next topic introduced is "The Recall Election". 

Leif, who was entering REM sleep on the gold wicker chair next to mine, sits up. Recall elections are big things, like when the state of California yanks its governor. It seems like overkill to have one for an HOA but the board has decided one of their members must go. They are attempting to oust The Victorian. Remember the closed half hour of the board meeting (opening ceremonies) featuring "board member actions/resolution"? This is when, we learn, the other board members put a letter of resignation in front of the Victorian and requested he sign it. He refused. 

The request is a shock to me. The Victorian was once the board's golden boy, instrumental in the post Friends of Castle Green tour, even providing the Victorian dancers who also put on a display of Victorian lawn bowling (very talented people). In recent months it seems he has fallen out with the board over his demands for "transparency" (translated as "letting the homeowners know what the board's doing"). 

I do know when the HOA failed to publish financial reports the Victorian did so on his own  (Victorians had the printing press). I don't think the board has been doing anything skeevy with Castle money, I  think they just haven't felt they had to tell anyone how it's spent. The same has been true of their hirings, firings and general policies. Employees have disappeared in the night. That and I miss being able to use the lobby; it makes it challenging to get in and out. Further, the Victorian has been accused of speaking excessively at board meetings, demanding a discussion of proposals, “slowing down the line”. Even the HOA can't stand to sit there that long. The accusations all point in one direction, the young man has been taking his job too seriously.

In the midst of these accusations T. Capote’s daughter has to leave. She refills the old gentleman's glass and puts the family's Pomeranian on her chair, so T. Capote will still have company. The Pomeranian is less effective in keeping him calm. In a few minutes he stands up, tells the board to f___ themselves and drags his little Pomeranian into the night. I remove his entry from my door prize basket.

The meeting concludes. I pull one of the two entries, making the woman doing her paper work the winner of an $11.99 bottle of Chardonnay marked down from $18.99. I know nothing about wine. I liked the pretty white vines etched on the bottle. All party favors here are Victorian themed. Art Deco is more than close enough.

In two weeks time is the open meeting to replace the too earnest Victorian (not that anyone who didn't attend this meeting will know about it). I am hard up for justice and entertainment; I will attend. Till then I will build furniture for my dollhouses and write web content about dogs for $3.50 a paragraph, further muddying the Internet.