What Ails Ya'

I've been suffering a "cold" - or something - for going on two weeks now. But it's getting worse. Feels a lot more flu-like.

Last fall I'd gotten seriously sick... for two months! I think it was some kind of "sinus infection" that had taken on top of a cold. I hadn't realized then that I still had medical insurance coverage, and so didn't see a doctor.

A friend had sent me a CARE package, including a full course of antibiotics, which seemed to do the trick. I'm thinking, by now, that I'll need something like that again. But this time I should be able to go to a doc to get it.

Yesterday I was so out of it and feeling so lousy that I had to just lay around in a park, sometimes almost delirious. On a gorgeous, hot summer day. I also had to miss almost all of the Street Festival going on nearby, too. Drat!

Imagine feeling that rotten... and then having to camp out curbside on a sidewalk with cold, dank night air all night long. Makes for a pretty funky morn rising.

Judge Not, Lest Ye...

A couple of days ago, I had to go over to the next city to make a court appearance for the "Obstructing Sidewalk" ticket I'd gotten awhile back. It's quite a ways from my usual stomping grounds, and so was a logistical burden. Especially since you have to be at the courthouse at 7am or so, since such a long line queues up to get searched, go in to stand in another long line that snakes and doublebacks on itself waiting for shots at the clerks' windows, etc.

I managed to night over in the area and got to the courthouse a bit on the late side. So I had to come back for the court session starting at 2pm, instead of the morning one. This meant I'd not only miss the usual breakfast local to me, but also lunch.

In addition to this ticket, there turned out to... well, "another matter" on their computer. Seems that several years ago, when I got my first and only traffic moving violation (passed some cars by riding my motorcycle on the shoulder of the hiway), I'd been dealing with a lot of change and a move and had forgotten the whole thing. So I'd also gotten a Failure To Appear charge against me and, apparently, never got the mails about all this. So that had eventually become a bench warrant for arrest. And a suspension of driver's license. Yuk.

I was among the last to be called to appear before the judge. I was ready to plea "not guilty" to the sidewalk obstructing thing, because according to what the civic code actually says, I think it's clear I shouldn't have been cited. So when I voiced my plea to the judge, he advised me that the court clerk would schedule another date for a trial on that.

Then he said: "And there's another matter." Gulp. After having sat in his court and watched how he meted out his justice to quite a few others, as well as having read the single-sheet instructions that had been passed out to us, I realized a couple of things about that "other matter" and what I was probably facing: possibly being jailed or having to at least post a bail (which I didn't have) and/or pay fines up to maybe about $800 - $1,000 or so. Plus, until I managed to somehow clear all that up, I'd still have stuff on my driving record and still would have to get another driver license.

But then he went on to tell me that the actual files for these matters had somehow... been destroyed. So it was ALL simply "dismissed"! Wow. All gone. No problem.

Sometimes things work out better than we'd even dare imagine.

Cannibals!!!

They're known as Creepers. Or Midnight Creepers. Or Tweakers.

Typically, these are drug addicts - meth (speed) or crack (cocaine) or whatever. They often stay up all night. And run or bicycle around a lot. These outings include forays along their routes checking on trashcans and dumpsters, to salvage what may be found. But also to check for chances for thefts.

Unfortunately, some of the easiest targets are -- homeless folks. Especially in the urban areas where people are sleeping outdoors. After all, here a person is wrapping up in a sleeping bag, usually with their head covered too against the cold, damp night air. And unconscious. All their belongings are right there, even bundled up in packs and such.

Despicably, often these Creepers are among homeless persons, too. Cannibalizing their own. The lowest of the low. Vermin!

They even go to quite some lengths to "case" someone, by watching them over time - noting details about if and when they're alone, what they own and carry around, where and when they sleep, etc.

Just so, last week my backpack was stolen while I slept. And, inside it, was my computer, my digital camera, my ID, my glasses, and other important or essential documents, legal materials, cash on hand. etc. The computer alone contained a LOT of unique info and a year's worth of work... journaling this entire experience, logging of key events/details, a great deal of collected information and resources, research, etc. for several important - even crucial - projects I've worked hard on. I even lost a small ivory carving I've had with me since boyhood, a last remaining memento.

I'd been using the backpack as my "pillow" while I slept, along with a stuffsack for my sleeping bag, which I'd stuff my coat and whatnot in too, since it's softer. Then I'd clip the pack to the stuffsack, as well, since the two items may separate a bit through the night.

I'm not really such a sound sleeper that I'll sleep through just anything. But, at the same time, sleeping outdoors and on streets or sidewalks one must accustom to sleeping through a lot more noise and sounds than in probably most other situations.

I'd just felt (apparently, mistakenly) sure that I'd taken reasonable measures to secure my valuables like that, assuming I'd be awakened "if" anyone tried to take it. In hindsight, all I can figure is that they must've moved very, very slowly and quietly. Once they felt the tether, they must've just as slowly and carefully followed it to the clip and gingerly unfastened it. And once they'd managed to patiently and quietly ease it away from my head, then they took off with the goods. I just can't imagine any other way.

Also in hindsight, I may actually be lucky that I didn't awaken, as there are no shortage of stories of people that have gotten bootkicked in the face and/or clubbed over the head with a length of plumbing pipe, too. So I may be "lucky" that they "only" got so much from me, without my being seriously physically harmed as well.

This loss is a most grave matter. I've now lost my main source of income -- as I'd been selling items by taking digital pics and posting on the internet for sale, using a lot of email for arrangements, etc. And my legal work... my ONLY shot at both getting some justice for what's been done to me resulting in my being here like this at all, as well as possibly recovering at least some of all the earnings and losses I've been cheated out of... is now almost all gone. Or would have to mostly be done all over again. Somehow.

What's more, my remaining possessions are almost all in the storage unit I've managed to keep until now, paying rent for that while forgoing so much else, but has been largely reliant upon using that gear and method to do so. Now ALL I have is at serious, imminent risk too.

And a number of friends and acquaintances who have had less than I, and so have been similarly benefiting or reliant upon the use of my equipment and my skills with it, are now similarly deprived.

I don't know what to do. Or if there's really anything that I can do.

[This Blog Entry is being done on a borrowed computer. This very Blog may not be able to be continued as I'd planned, either.]

"Spanger" Etiquette?

The street term for "spare changing" (aka panhandling) is "spanging" (pronounced spayn•jeen). Yesterday, a group of homeless kids were doing so while sitting together on a sidewalk in the biz district. A couple of cleancut people, maybe college-aged, showed up nearby, clutching notebooks/literature for "Environment America" -- a nonprofit purposed with environmental issues.

It's common to see college-kids on the streets pitching various organizations, often getting paid to do so, as they sell memberships and/or just collect donations. This is a form of paid spanging, really -- if organizational instead of just private and personal. But they get their $ out of approaching strangers and asking for money, so what's really so different to that extent?

These two were doing so in close proximity to the street kids also doing their version. The street kids asked the two if they could go down the block a ways, since it's something of a tacit custom for spangers to not position too closely... as it competes too much for each individual going by. As the kids explained it, too, once a person says "no" then that's still in their mind and is their mode if someone else immediately appeals to them again.

Of course all this was likely pretty alien to the two well-meaning two soliciters, and they seemed taken aback by the kids' contact and request. But they also resisted cooperating at all. So the kids were becoming a bit frustrated and annoyed, although far from anything too overbearing. But they persisted in trying to persuade the two, since this was a location outside a popular cafe and a fairly promising spanging spot.

One of the two "canvassers" took out their cell phone and punched three numbers, and holding it their ear. Everyone noticing assumed they'd called "911" -- the police. At that, the kids got more visibly miffed, expressing their resentment, and departed down the block rather than have further confrontation or trouble. Yet, another person, a bit older, encountered them getting the story of what had just happened, and then approached the two contenders himself. He very reasonably tried to explain the situation and dynamics to the two, although they were still being uptight. He persisted, appealing to them as just persons and advocating cooperation, allowance toward the kids and their plight, etc. and disapproving of calls to police or any perceived need to.

The one with the phone had apparently cancelled the call when the kids took off, but then said that he'd been calling his supervisor, not the police. And he relaxed his stance somewhat. His companion then quietly, briefly discussed the matter with him and they both moved to the other side of the street, in front of a bookstore.

This was an interesting intersection of factors and dynamics.

Those Pesky Noisy Neighbors

We all probably have had them. But, when homeless, there are some unique aspects to the annoyance.

Lately, I'm "curb camping". See the Blog Entry below for a brief description. This isn't in a "skid row" type area, but a residential street with apartment buildings, university student housing, etc.

But at night, and late into the night, there's a LOT of "partying" going on. And inebriation. And both on the street and indoors.

There's been a growing number of homeless "curb campers" too. Last night, folks were bedded out head-to-head, head-to-foot and foot-to-foot from the corner where the street "T's" into the cross street to about 300 feet down the block. I took the "last" position away from the intersection.

I don't generally even "turn in" until midnite or later, in part due to the amount of activity and noise going on. But even then, there's often a considerable amount of people out, about, and in and ... noisy. Often real noisy.

Being "out there" the other, typical loud parties and boisterous small groups coming and going means that some number of these are also passing right by... within a foot or two of where I'm trying to sleep. Or pulling up in cars, right next to me. The experience is really difficult to properly convey, without actually being there.

And, yes, there are others "out there" that are wildly inebriated, or just psychotically ranting, raving and sometimes fighting or some other, unknown clattering, banging and whatnot.

I typically am running with an accumulating sleep deprivation, which sooner or later simply forces some daytime napping - wasting yet more precious potentially productive time, if not just the fatigue hampering everything. That is, IF I can find anywhere I'm both allowed to do rest or sleep... and that isn't too noisy.

Be Careful Out There

Those of us that prefer to be "on the streets" rather than in the "shelters" tend to strike alliances, for mutual benefit. Just so, last night, three of us "curb camped" in a frequent spot. There's a number of people doing so, along a stretch of street that's residential on the other side and we're all outside a large church property, but only allowed right along the curbside of the wide sidewalk.

So two of us, or three like last night, will set up head-to-head or toe-to-toe to provide some kind of "support". Even so, this morning it was discovered that one of us had had the seat to their bicycle stolen and their rear wheel's quick release and spindle taken. We'd just discussed this the other day, when I'd given him a replacement seat for his old worn out one, and I'd explained why I don't even use those quick-release mechanisms for my bicycle seat anymore. Our other companion does have a quick-release seat post, but actually removes the seat and post and tucks it down in the foot of his sleeping bag.

These vermin that prey upon and steal from folks that are "out here" and have so little are among the lowest of the low. What's worse is that there's a good chance that we "know" who did it... if not personally, we've probably seen them around. Because anyone in that area most likely isn't some random newcomer that both just happened by in the middle of the night and would have the moxy to risk that theft.

This illustrates one of the more basic dynamics of the predicament being homeless and outdoors: there are those that will help and ally with you to important mutual benefits and advantages; and there are those that will do you seriously wrong. Of course, this is true in most all strata in this life. But the precariousness of a destitution on the streets really forces the issues. A bike without a seat and rear wheel spindle can't be ridden.

And it's his second day working at a new job. So he has to get to work another way, meaning leaving his bike behind, either to be watched by others (that may not be able to take it with them or stick around) and that he can't get to a bike shop to buy used replacement components because he'll be working. And that's if he even happens to have enough cash in his pocket for just such an otherwise modest expense.

Even some of the smallest of matters become truly major matters when in this circumstance.

Bus-ted

My friend "Typhoon" had been living in his bus for a couple of years now. It's one of those smaller ones, just larger than a typical "van". It finally got towed a few days ago, because he'd fallen behind on registration fees. This is a major disaster for many that are living in their vehicles.

He also had a temporary guest staying with him, who arrived there while the towing was underway. She's got a terminal illness and they wouldn't even allow her entry to retrieve her medications -- because she isn't the owner. So they took the vehicle and everything in it.

Often, or usually, this means that the owner is going to just lose their vehicle/home, since the fees and fines for the towing and the additional daily ransom charges are more than a person can muster right away. If they'd had the cash, they could've paid the registration and avoided the seizure in the first place. So the vehicle is heading for the auction and the tow lot will get the proceeds, paying themselves for having gone and gotten it.

Meanwhile, the clock's also ticking on how long is allowed for a person to go retrieve whatever belongings were inside. That is, whatever might be left, since theft is common. Who has a documented inventory of everything to prove what was there? And, of course, there's a fee and a cumbersome process to get an official access permit. Each time.

I've managed to keep a commercial storage unit for some of my own belongings, in all this time. Often, just barely, which is a precarious monthly challenge of raising enough funds to meet that rent to keep virtually all I own from getting seized and sold off there. So I pay a couple of hundred monthly so that my stuff is safely indoors, even with heat/air conditioning, while I sleep outdoors.

I juggled things and made some space and Typhoon borrowed a pickup truck, did the drill and brought some of his things over there, where we've stashed it all, for now. My storage rent day is directly ahead and I've managed to rustle it up, once more, which will leave me with precious few dollars in the pocket.

Just days before Typhoon's bus got taken, he'd been notified that he has been successfully qualified and will be receiving monthly benefit payments, which are to commence in about two weeks. He'll be able to get another vehicle so just has to "rough it" until then.

I don't receive any such benefits or payments.