The Magical Reappearance of the Bicycle Lock

  

It's Monday, the last day of August, and the world shifts into gear again.  Grim-faced people heading out for work.  And a horde, a gaggle of runners, walkers, dog-walkers on the trails along the river.  Never seen anything quite like it.

Had my morning coffee at McDonald's.  It's a super-deal:  42 cents and it comes with two refills.  This is the Senior Discount, of course, but it makes it lovely for an old geezer like me to get that caffeine fix in the morning.

I found a phone on the bridge this morning, and so I called and left a voice message.  Of course I'm hoping for a nominal reward ($5.00 would be lovely!) but if not, no big deal.

And I found a large over-the-shoulder bag, somewhat the worse for wear abandoned down by the bridge; I checked it out, loaded it up, and it's working quite well thus far.  It's bigger than the one I had attached to the rear of the saddle, and so of course that means more...STUFF.

You think just because I'm homeless that I'm not a pack rat?  Grin.  But the limited space imposes a certain discipline and puts a premium on STUFF that folds or rolls into small bundles.  Nylon packs better than cotton.  And yesterday I got some below-the-knee khaki-colored ripstop nylon capri pants, I suppose you'd call them.  Much cooler than the blue jeans.

Last night was chilly.  I awakened several times, wrapped in the blue tarp, feeling not quite comfortable.  Finally I got up, slipped on the blue jeans over the capris and that was enough to do the trick.

Up by five.  Why so early?  The conventional "street wisdom" is that the cops start making their ticketing-rounds sometime after five, so it behooves the street people to recognize and honor that.  Ergo, up and at 'em, boyz.  Thank goodness for cell phones which have alarms and whatnot.

Lovely lady there where I got my capri pants.  Some kind of director of community something-or-other.  I'm terrible remembering titles and names, but she was very nice.  Gave me a hot dog and some beans, so that took me through the day.

See how it is?  When you first hit the street, it's all about chaos and not knowing what needs to be known.  You don't know that the cops will ticket you in a heartbeat for the smallest little thing, and so when you DO get ticketed, you tend to pass that information on.

Yesterday, three men were ticketed for open container violations down by the river.  They were drinking beer and wine, and it ended up costing them.  The tickets, I understand, are $300 each.  And that's a major ouchie out here. A week of community service.  Bummmmmah.

Well, ya say, they shouldn't have been drinking out in the open.  True, true.  But where could they drink inside, being homeless and outside by definition?  I, personally, am abstaining from alcohol.  But what I observe down here at the nitty gritty level is that there's an awful lot of herb-smoking and quite a bit of drinking.  Just the facts, ma'am, as Sgt. Joe Friday used to say.  There's a lot of stress associated with being homeless, and the tendency is to self-medicate however you can.

Some of the street people are quite generous while others are devious and parasitic.  Smiley, for example, is a very generous guy--and a sweet soul, to boot.  I don't have his picture yet, but plan on catching him on camera soon.  And of course I still don't have that cable which will allow me to upload some of the photographs I've been taking.  Think I need to post a list of...THINGS I NEED.

Planning to bike up to Veggie Heaven (I think it's called) and see if they will fix me up some rice and tofu or whatnot.  A bit hungry this morning, with no prospects in sight until this evening.  That's a long time to be serenaded by the growling of the tummy.

Nuff for now.

Me ke aloha,

Elijah

THIS JUST IN:  Just got a call from the owner of the phone, and he'll be here at the main library to pick it up in an hour.  So....

There's lunch, as he said he most definitely would give me that nominal reward I not-so-subtly mentioned.

Tummy...growl away.  Soon you'll be taken care of.