Homeless #2

I suppose I have a soft spot for some homeless and homeless women in particular. I'm not sure where this comes from but occasionally it drives Dena a little crazy. But that's my job. On a particularly chilly day I was on my way home from the post office and I see this woman waving her arms madly on the street corner. She was shoeless and only had a t-shirt on. She looked extremely dishevelled, cold and perhaps a little off. I was concerned that she had wandered away from her caregiver. No one was stopping and I couldn't help myself.

I stopped and she told me a sad tale of a stolen social security check, how hungry she was, etc. What possessed me I don't know but I offered to get her a jacket and asked her to get in my truck. On the short drive home I began quickly to regret my decision. She reeked so bad I had to open all the windows. I wondered how I would ever get the smell out. At the house I found a brand new UPS jacket that an old roommate had given me, a pair of tennis shoes and some food. I dressed her all up and drove her back to where I picked her up. I suppose in hindsight the entire affair was foolish on my part but I like to think I helped in some way.

Speaking of Homeless #1

In another lifetime I would stop by my local 7-11 every morning on my way to work. Almost every morning there would be a young, tall black fellow there with newspapers and watered down windex asking to clean your windshield. Sometimes I would let him but I have a rule. Never give a homeless man money. It's my rule, yes it's prejudice I suppose, but it's my money. I will buy food, which I did. Regularly we had this exchange, where I'd buy him a pastry for breakfast and my windshield would be cleaned.

Some weeks, I wouldn't see him. After one such absence I struck up a conversation with him and asked where he'd been. He'd been ill and hospitalized. I could see it, he looked terrible. Most mornings after our transaction of sorts I would ponder how he got into this situation and how would he ever get out of it. It was obvious he didn't mind working for his money instead of straight begging at least he was cleaning windshields.

So, I asked him. He explained to me that he had been a cable TV installer and had been out at a party in South Central Los Angeles and had gotten busted for DUI. DUI laws are very strong now and he lost his license for 6 months, that meant he couldn't drive the cable TV van. There went his job. He said his girlfriend dumped him and he lost his apartment quickly after that. It spiraled from there and he ended up contracting HIV. A sad tale but easy to see it happening to anyone really. One bad choice and your life turns to shit.

Several weeks after our bonding experience he disappeared. He had been looking quite gaunt and I suspected the worse. I've never seen him since. Sometimes when I approach the 7-11 I wonder....

Homeless - How Do You Recover?

The other night Dena and I were standing in line for the Ira Glass NPR event and a scruffy looking guy with a long beard walked up to the people in front of us. He asked what the line was for. They turned their back and ignored him. He asked us the same question. He looked homeless but not crazy although he had crossed Wilshire in the middle of the street and just about got hit by several cars seconds before this. After a momentary pause, I decided to answer him. He then asked several other questions about NPR ending with where on the dial was NPR. You have to be old school to ask "where on the dial".

As I write this blog I'm staring at a drawing I purchased last week from a homeless woman (well I assume she's homeless) that often sets up shop on the corner of Crescent Heights and Wilshire. She sells her drawings which are either charcoal or crayon and are quite bad truth be told. I bought one from her the other night, $ 10. She's scruffy but appears to be as well kept as I imagine she's able, her clothes are very old but seem well cared for.

These moments in time add up to a terrible National crisis. Sure, some homeless people are a little crazy, the Federal and State governments haven't cared for these middle of the road crazy people since Reagan put them all on the streets. But what about the others? What about the person that has lost their job which led to losing the apartment which lead to burning bridges with friends? What about the person who has no where left to turn to? How do they recover? How do they interview? How do they even get an interview? If they got a job, how would they afford to get started in the job with clothes and getting to work? It seems impossible.