I have a friend, one of my best, who likes to let me know when I've hit a nail on the head, with regards to this blog. He is most vocal when he feels I am going to the "preachy" side. Look, preaching is only proclaiming. Trust me, not a single human is harder on myself than myself, so if its going down here, then I must be feeling it.
So fuck preachy and fuck nailing it. I've said from the beginning I'm not writing for anyone. I write because it feels good to let it go and also, as I have said before, I want a story to meet me at the end, not just vague, half-stories of shit that occurred along the way.
So I saw this guy today standing at the corner of Lincoln and Venice and he had a sign that said "starving" which I quite liked. One of maybe the easiest things about being homeless might be deciding what to write on your sign.
The least effective kind? Anything proclaiming poverty within the vicinity of one or more dogs that clearly belong to you. That just pisses me off. (And for the record, my only charity is homeless people, bartenders, wait staff, and the SPCA.) I'm picky when it comes to hand outs, and so are you. It's ok.
Starving. For what? Necessities? Luxuries? Simplicity? I'm starving too. Starving got me out of the funk, and starving is why I am in LA. Starving is why I rode my bike 500 miles in the last two weeks and starving is why I pulled the trigger on a ticket to Spain in two weeks.
Yeah, it's a level of starving way removed from this dudes level of starving. That is not lost on me.
But who of us is not starving? Most folks float around on a daily basis, toiling for the benefit of others, and cow-tow, and park their expensive cars outside of their insulting houses, and think they are perfectly replete, and yet polish off the day peering hungrily into the stocked fridge and deciding that there is nothing to eat. And they go to bed, starving.
Starving. It's such a great word. When you say it to a girlfriend as in "I'm starving for you" then plan on losing a little sleep. If it's "I'm starving for a new direction," then it's a crossroad. If its on a piece of cardboard in Venice, well, you can see past it like most, or you can buy the guy some pizza.
This guys name was Ken, from Chicago, parents in Arizona, and Ken had on a black cap and was just a bit taller than me and about the same 7 day beard, and wore a grey "Caesars Palace" sweatshirt. Good brown eyes. And a backpack.
And the douchebag at the pizza place actually gave me trouble when I tried to order a whole pie, stating it was too late. I told him the situation and he said they gave out pizza at the end of the night, out back, to the homeless folk.
That's when Ken muttered.."yeah, like 5 pieces to 50 meth-heads." And I guess it was a little late but I turned my head at the guy and said "C'mon, you charge $3 a slice for so-so pizza, I've had it, and this guy is just trying to eat, do us a favor here." And so 3 hot pieces of cheese came out of the oven for Ken. And one coke, "so I have something to drink with it" he said.
No, I didn't sit down with him while he ate; I figured let the man have some peace.
The upside to starving is that we can choose to feed each other, and ourselves, or we can just go on starving until it ends us all.
If that sounded preachy, it's because it was.
