REAL BASEBALL! Pleasanton 6, Nogales 3

My friends, today we had a ballgame! And once again you will forgive this indulgence of mine, because today I saw a great game of baseball!

I arrived late in the bottom of the 1st inning and Pleasanton had already scored one run against Nogales, AZ, representing the West. They went on to score one more run that inning, and leaving Nogales scorless through three, scored a run in the second and the third innings.

Pleasanton's base stealing again was on full display tonight, taking advantage of every opportunity. Double steals from 1st and 2nd happened in the bottom of the 3rd with one of those making it to home plate on a single hit.

Nogales decided to play in the top of the 4th. But not before Pleasanton's second baseman robbed Nogales of a solid double on a spectacular diving catch between second and first base. But Nogales showed that they could steal bases as well, showing a double steal of 2nd and 3rd bases simultaneously.

About that time a man named Roger walked up and we began bantering about baseball, about the A's loss today (durn it!) and together we stood behind center field and saw the rest of the game together.

Arizona scored two runs in the top of the fourth.

In the bottom of the 4th we saw a lead off double by Pleasanton, and a single brought that runner home. Then, with runners on first and second, an intent walk loaded the bases, with two out. The next batter K'd and Pleasanton left three.

Top of the 5th, Nogales went down one, two three, and Pleasanton scored a run with one out on a stand up double in the bottom of the 5th. Score was 6-2 Pleasanton at this point.

In the top of the 6th, Pleasanton pitched a base hit, a stand up double and a scored run, getting Nogales back in the game only down by three. With one of Arizona's best hitters coming up, there was a confab at the mound (I suppose they might have been sacrificing a chicken... do they have any players from Santo Domingo in Pleasanton?) They walked the hitter, loading the bases making for some tense moments for Pleasanton fans. But the next batter up K'd, which brought up the Nogales Catcher. He flies out, but one run came in and Pleasanton flubbed a pickle situation between second and third base. The next batter K'd and the inning was over.

The bottom of the 6th inning ended with bases loaded, two out. This time it was Nogales having a convention at the pitcher's mound... but the next Pleasanton batter grounded out, and we went to the top of the 7th.

With two out, Arizona got a solid base hit, and either an error or a balk (not sure, couldn't see it) resulted in the runner at first being awarded second base. The last Nogales batter flew out, and the game was over just as the clock hit 8pm, having run six innings and a solid two hour game.

Okay... again, it has not a damn thing to do with being homeless... but a shout out to Officer Williams who stopped me on El Caminito after the game. He saw my bike, loaded down as it is... for the first time? Really? Nice enough guy. First time we've met, I think.

Anyway, the boys in blue from Pleasanton once again showed they really can play baseball!

By the way, the website for this series is here: http://intermediateworldseries.org/

Pleasanton will play again in game 12 on Friday at 3PM. Be there! Support our local boys!

Four and a Half Innings of Utter Bliss...

Free events are so very cool... you know why? I can afford them!

Yeah, this has not a damn thing to do with homelessness, but you'll forgive an indulgence...

This evening, White Sox fan Ricky and his grouchy A's fan friend (me) hit Max Bear Park (between Murdell and El Padro just off Concannon) and watched California District 57 (aka Pleasanton Little League) TROUNCE the boys from Central Division.

It's the Little League World Series (Intermediate Division) and it's being held right here in Livermore! Can you dig it? World Class Baseball in Livermore!

The place was pretty packed. Ricky and I sat on the edge of left field all the way in back. But it was still a pretty good view of the game. Behind us sat a guy with two boys who obviously knew his baseball (he's an Athletic's Fan, heh... and I'm probably the least Baseball Savvy Athletics fan I know).

Before the game started we got to see the boys warm up. Pleasanton's Pitcher was in the Bull Pen throwing heaters that looked like they had to hurt to catch, while the Central Division boys were not exactly in fine form on the field. They reminded me a little of how the Bad News Bears looked in the beginning of the movie.

Be that as it may, the boys from Pleasanton came to play Baseball, even if the other team did not. In less than sixty pitches, and four and a half innings, it was a 12-0 no hitter that lasted a little over an hour and a half.

But, you want to know something? Neither Ricky nor I have been to a game this year. It was our first game to see, and we got to see a team of local kids with a lot of heart do a heck of a job on the field. And the solo homer in the bottom of the fourth landed less than ten feet away from where we sat.

We're going back to watch these boys play tomorrow at six, when they'll take the field against the boys from Nogales, Arizona!

Just a warning, AZ, our boys came to play!

And maybe the A's will do better tomorrow than they did tonight... oh crap, they're facing Knuckleballer R.A. Dickie! Well, at least we have the Mutant Walrus (Colon) on the mound... but that'll be all over by the time Ricky and I get to Max Bear Park... I may have to console myself again by watching a truly great team in person...

Free Money From Your Pocket

This image is making the rounds on Facebook. I'm not on welfare of any sort. I don't need it. I have to tell you that I was on Foodstamps up to January of 2012, but I had a glorious day when I walked into the Multi Service Centre on Pacific, cancelled my account with them and cut up my EBT Card. Haven't had one since, and, thankfully, won't need to get one.

I don't know what the policy is now, but it used to be that in order to get General Assistance (GA), you had to do community service work. I was on that for a short period of time, and that was fine. I did my 20 hours of community service and received a grand total of: $28 a month... that's $1.40 an hour.

I have no idea why I had to work so much for so little. I didn't bother to ask. Originally, I thought I was working both for Foodstamps and GA with my 20 hours a month... but no, I was only working for GA... I haven't truly bothered to go ask. I'm not particularly interested. I'm sure if I did ask I'd be as disgusted with the answer as I am with seeing a host of Illegal Aliens at the Multi Service Centre getting their Foodstamps and GA...

I've mentioned I just got a job. Love my job. I honestly do! It's $8 an hour, and I don't get too many hours, but I honestly love the work I do and Bosslady has a whole lot to do with that.

Last Thursday Bosslady comes up to me and tells me “I need your SSN card by Monday or I have to terminate you.” Oh! Crap! Hadn't had one for 30 years. My VA Card has my SSN on it, so I always used that, and everyone accepted it. Nope, not this time! So I managed to get my rear end over to the Hayward Social Security Office (thank you so much Angela, for getting me there) and got the card. Problem solved. I get to keep this job! It gets me up in the morning...

Anyway, so I'm on FB doing my Mea Culpa on my bad behaviour (last blog) and I see this image posted by one of my FB friends.

Work for Welfare... why the hell not?

Seriously, most homeless people have EBT Cards. They do! And they use them as a form of currency. I've seen people trade EBT purchases for Booze, Cigarettes and Cash at a rate of $2 EBT to $1 in cash. Last I checked a single man got $200 on his EBT a month. It might be more now, but that was what I got when I had it. That's about 20 hours worth of work at $10 an hour.

So: my fellow Livermorons, you have all these people out on the streets who have little or nothing to do... what if we were allowed to put them to work?

And there are things that do not get done that need getting done! Have you been in any of our parks lately? Not to be a jerk to you guys, but LARPD: you don't do a lot of cigarette butt policing! Your parks are full of them. (Smokers, do us all a favour, and stop throwing your damn cigarette butts all over the place. Learn how to field strip them or something...)

If only you got these homeless guys together, had them police Cigarette butts say five hours a week... how much would that help clean up the parks? Homeless people sleep in them, why not help clean them?

I'm sure there are a whole lot of other ideas out there. I'm just some idiot with a computer keyboard, I can't be expected to tax my brain thinking of them all... But then, the City Employee Unions might have a thing or two to say about it... screw their over-paid, under-worked selves... (I have no sympathy for you people who drive up the cost of living for the rest of us, I truly do not! You're a big part of the reason the Homeless problem is as bad as it is!)

I can't blame my fellow homeless for going and getting themselves an EBT Card and GA if they can. When we're feeding and clothing Illegal Aliens and people who have never paid dime one in taxes, why the hell not?

But I have a message to all you taxpaying residents of Livermore who like to point the finger at Cornerstone and Vineyard and Open Heart and the Livermore Homeless Refuge. These operations do not cause homelessness, and they do not invite the homeless into Livermore. Your friendly Neighbourhood Government does through it's “good intentions” paid for with your money. Money that those on welfare get mostly for free, and believe themselves entitled...

I Dun A Ba-a-ad Thing...

Homelessness for Stupid People

The foibles of the most pampered homeless population in the Bay Area...

I went over to a friend's home yesterday evening to pick up the bike he wanted to donate to the Serve the City Project. That's Cornerstone Church's homeless mission, by the way. Walked there, rode it back. It was in pretty good shape, though needed some adjustment on the deraileurs, but mostly very nice. I stashed my own wheels and rode that to Vineyard Christian Fellowship this morning. Before you call me on this: Damnit Christian, you said you weren't going to get to Vineyard anymore! You're working! Well... my bad... I still have my job, but it's Tuesday through Saturday and I when I wrote “To Take a Shower” I wasn't aware of that... even so, the issue there was mostly about guys who work and simply cannot get to showers at all. But I digress.

Anyway, I hadn't been at Vineyard for some time, and it was nice to see a lot of the folks there.

K-Mark (Mark with a K...), Denny, Annie, Quiet Max...

Quiet Max is a young kid who is very quiet. Lot of experience behind those dark eyes. He's a guy who's story I'd like to hear someday. He's seeing the daughter of a friend of mine, Vince. Haven't seen Vince in a while, but Max tells me he's doing just fine where he's at. Vince's Daughter, and Max's GF is this pretty little fireball of a girl, exactly the opposite of Max. Though, like a lot of young homeless, they're very guarded, and take a lot of time to trust people. Smart, actually. I think I've mentioned that.

Bicycle Brian was there this morning as well. He was working on different people's bikes, and did take a look at the one I brought in for my friend. Some of the good news happening there is that Brian and Mickey Kundert (the bosslady of this mission) are getting together to make Brian's services available weekly on Mondays. Brian would be working on donated bikes (which often are in pretty bad shape) and doing some of the maintenance on those in use that need it... of which there are lots! Brian made a point of mentioning he'd need a spot for his parts-stash. That looks like it'll come together.

And guess what, everyone there this morning was on their best behaviour! Well... almost everyone... everyone that is, except... ME... :)

I arrived just after seven, walked in the door, and Rick (Mickey's husband) was there by himself. The tables and chairs weren't set up yet, so I began digging them out just as John arrived, and he started grabbing stuff and the three of us set up.

So I asked “What... no Princess Paul today?”

“Oh, he's in the Shower already...” Shower Nazi Doug told me. Go figure. Shower Nazi Doug had been setting up the towels and other hygiene paraphernalia for the multitudes that would arrive today (I didn't do a count, but by the time I left just after ten, it looked like the shower list had about fifty on it).

Princess Paul was already in the shower. Had to be first, didn't bother helping Rick set up... but that's Paul.

I grabbed a napkin and scrawled on it “Reserved for Princess Paul” and placed it on his customary seat... and continued to help out...

I met Paul for the first time in December of last year when he showed up at the Warming Centre. He was talkative with everyone, expressing opinions mostly, talking conspiracy. It wasn't long before he began telling Bob and Donna McKenzie the things they should be doing. In fact, there wasn't a volunteer who met him to whom Paul didn't express an opinion on how things could be made better. He'd never, of course, bother acting on these things, showing people how things could be better, but he certainly knew what he was talking about, and made that perfectly clear.

I've mentioned this before, but I'll do it again. At the Warming Centre, after Lights Out, you don't move around, you stay at your sleeping station, try and sleep, unless you need to use the bathroom. You don't talk, you don't eat. Snoring, however, is a fact of life. You live with it.

Paul would get up, walk around, sit in a chair and stare at people... can't tell you how creepy this was.

He also built a gloriously thick bed. I have no clue how many blankets, mattresses and sleeping bags he'd stack up, but the bed he made reminded everyone so much of the Princess and the Pea fairy tale that he earned his nickname: Princess Paul.

When Paul started waking people up for snoring, that was when he alienated everyone. He shook me awake once (only once for me, but others got it several times). The most egregious incident was when he woke Frank up twice in one night. Frank works 10-14 hour days. Paul was finished after that. If he had not disappeared he'd have been told to leave.

But in the last few months his presence has been a reminder of past annoyances... well, his presence and his lack of effort and sense of entitlement...

So I left that little note on his chair... my bad... smack me, beat me up... I simply could not help it...

When he came out of the shower, he arrived at his chair, found the Napkin-Placard and lost it! He crumpled it up, and threw it at me.

Now, I can't remember precisely what it was he said, but the fury in his eyes was evident.

Yes, I laughed. I found this very funny. And you know, Princess, if you would grow a sense of humour...

Have I mentioned I don't trust anyone who can't laugh at themselves?

Yes, I was a very, very bad boy this morning... I'm sooo (not) sorry...

The Day of the Dove

“How are you?” I asked Kamy as I passed her in the Gallery Hallway at the Livermore Public Library.

“I am doing good!” Kamy said...

This is Kamy... yes, I AM OMELETTE Kamy!

“And I am very hopeful for the future,” she went on to say. She was smiling a broad, genuine smile. The kind of smile that someone wears who is genuinely happy in that moment.

I hugged her... not like me to get this excited, but I couldn't help it.

The thought ran through my head “who are you and what have you done with Kamy?” Not that I said it, but there it was...

“What is happening in your life?” I asked her. “What's changed?”

“I found a dove,” Kamy told me.

Kamy told me about a dove she'd found next to her car (which she still has) with a broken wing. Her first instinct was to take it to a vet, but she, of course, could not afford to do any such thing. She went on to describe all the things she had since learned about doves. She learned how to nurse it back to health. She learned how to feed it. She learned that they mate for life. And now, she complains, the dove is flying all over her room pooping all over the place... it's a terrible mess, but Kamy loves the dove, which she genuinely believes is a gift from God.

I was having a conversation today, about an hour before I ran into Kamy, with a new friend who is studying to be a doctor. He'll be taking his boards very soon, and I probably won't see very much of him after that. We ran through all kinds of topics regarding life, love and purpose, and one of the things we seemed to agree on is that when a man has a sense of purpose, he can accomplish great things. Where do most men get their sense of purpose from? I'm sure fathers get it from their children, I wouldn't know, not having had any.

But we agreed that men get a sense of purpose from a woman. Interesting, is it not, that men who are married tend to be wealthier than men who are not? You could read all kinds of things into that, I'm sure... but I like to think that a woman motivates a man... I've known more than one homeless man who's former lover's or wife's rejection was instrumental in his life crashing into oblivion. My late friend Richard Fincus comes to mind. He was estranged from his ex wife and separated from his adult daughters. When he spoke of them to me, he glowed. Talking about them made him happy, but it was a fleeting high for him. After doing so he would go into a melancholy state only alleviated with drink and false cheer. I think Smokey Robinson was thinking of Richard when he wrote “Tears of a Clown.”

I do not recommend a homeless man seek female companionship to give him purpose. That's a fool's errand and doomed to failure. The kind of women available to a homeless man are... well, you ever look for a needle in a haystack? Not bloody likely to find one, and when you do... no, let's not go there...

One of the things I'd truly like to talk about with my new friend, the future doctor, is this: where would a man find purpose without the benefit of female companionship? What is that special formula that will give the man that purpose to be successful... or dig himself out of a hole such as homelessness?

I'm talking about men for this reason: most homeless people I know are men. And most... maybe all of the homeless men I know seem to have a lack of purpose. Of course this may be only my own perception, I've been wrong before, and I will be wrong again.

But, purpose, real purpose, could be part of the solution for a good number of the homeless out there.

I have no answers as to how to prescribe purpose to anyone. I have enough trouble finding my own purpose, much less anyone else's.

But, just so all of you know, I could not be more proud of Kamy. She's truly turning her life around, and finding purpose welling up inside... it was an absolute joy to speak with her this evening. It made my week... all because of a dove...

Cruel to be Kind...

Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind... in the right measure... was that a song?

Have you ever had a friend that stank? And I mean REEKED! Did you grit and bear it, and not say anything for fear of offending him or her?

I say this as I stink of cigarette smoke. Excuse me while I pop and Altoids...

Thankfully, my young friend Jackie is forward enough to let me know when my breath is bad. I've told her repeatedly how much I appreciate it when she does. It's important for anyone, not just the homeless, to understand when they're making a bad impression on people around them. One of the worst things you can do to people around you is offend their noses.

I had to tell my friend Kyle today to get his rear end over to Asbury, get a shower, get a change of clothing and shave his face. This morning I had to tell him he was scaring people, which he has been.

I don't know what's wrong with Kyle. Was it drugs? Is it some form of mental illness or is it a combination of the two?

Like most people who know Kyle, I think of him as a big, playful, dumb, black lab. (Kyle's been told this, and he's fine with it, by the way). All play, no cares. But when he's chastised on any level, he feels it deeply. I've had to do that several times in the last few days. I wish I knew what was going on with him, but I have no way of knowing unless he gives me some hints. He's not hinting... yet...

Keeping Kyle's behaviour in check has been difficult of late. Another man who washes the police cars for the LPD was terrorized by Kyle the other day. Kyle scared the bejeezus out of the poor man who has issues of his own. I was fortunate enough to speak with him afterwards and find this out directly from him so I could speak with Kyle.

In case you mistake me, I tend to write pretty much the same way I speak. I try not to pull punches. I'd rather be completely up front and honest and say what I mean and mean what I say. What you're reading is pretty much what you get. With Kyle, this is necessary or the point does not get across.

Kyle's deeper issues notwithstanding, I like Kyle. He's a good guy for the most part, and I don't believe he means to cause the trouble he does. Nobody outside his family can help him solve his issues, but those of us around him CAN help him cope and not be a problem for those around him. Perhaps this is like putting a bandaid on a gaping wound, but it's the best we can do. Being perfectly honest, consistent and, at times, harsh is part of it. We laugh with him when he's funny. We laugh at him when he screws up. We know he's a good guy because he can laugh at himself!

Just an aside, I've learned not to trust anyone who cannot laugh at themselves. It's probably the biggest hint about your trustworthiness. Not always, but often enough...

My philosophy on how I deal with Kyle, and those like Kyle, is this: it is far more cruel a thing to say nothing and allow them to continue making these mistakes, and I hope that those around me who consider me a friend will not hesitate to show me the same.

I have a, well, a former friend, who began shunning me several months ago. Whenever I approached her about it, she swore I was imagining things. I've since given up, and I suppose that's what she wanted, but it caused me a great deal of anguish trying to understand what it was I did that was so offensive. I'll never know. I see this as an intensely hostile and cruel thing to do to anyone. My experience with this former friend has served to re-enforce my attitude regarding being up front with people.

I've blogged before about politeness and how horrible a thing I think it is. I believe most people think being polite and having manners are the same thing. They are not. Having manners means you make sure your actions do not stifle those around you. It's good manners, for instance, not to stink. It's good manners not to make a mess or to clean up after yourself. It's good manners to offer to help someone struggling. Being polite seems to be more about evasion than human connection. A polite person, for instance, would never tell Kyle he was stinking so bad people have to leave the room... (and in a business setting, this is bad, bad, bad! It wasn't just people, they were customers!)

Politeness sucks. Sorry, it does!

So, folks, please be honest with your friends about what they're doing and how they're affecting others! If you don't, you're being very, very cruel!

Living Out of a Bicycle

“Nobody's interested in who stole who's bike,” some poster commented on one of my blogs.

Nobody? Well, maybe nobody who lives with a roof over his head. But if you're homeless, a bicycle is quite a valuable commodity. If you have a decent one, and not just any old beater given you for free, you protect it as best you can. Even if it's a beater, it might be irreplaceable, at least in the short term.

For people like my friend Ricky and me, our bikes have become more than just transportation. They're also mules. A means, by which, we carry everything we have. I'm proud of Ricky. It took him a while to get himself set up, but he eventually did. Now, instead of having to lug four backpacks everywhere he goes, he has one he keeps with him and three mounted on his bike. Oh, by the way, I'm proud of me too for selling Ricky on the idea...

His bike is a beater.

Mine is not.

I bought mine a year ago last January in lieu of buying a van. That was the original plan when I went to work driving. I would buy a van, and live in that. But I wasn't making enough. Any van I looked at that would be worth having would cost me in excess of $6,000 unless I was willing to go out of state to get it. The option to do that, working as much and as long hours as I was, simply wasn't viable.

You'll laugh at me and say: “But you weren't paying rent! You should have saved a lot!”

Well... I did save a lot. But it's not as cheap as you might expect, being homeless and having a full time job. (My current job is part time, which suits me just fine for now).

You have to make arrangements for showers. Food is a problem, and out on the road, you mostly have to eat fast food. You have no way to cook for yourself. So, you end up spending a full hour of your day's wages, at least, just on food! That's 1/8^th of your paycheck!

I had been working two months when I could finally afford to outfit my bike. I was so sick of walking and carrying everything everywhere... I was ready!

So, I walked into Livermore Cyclery and picked out a Trek 7100. Why that one? It was the cheapest one with front shocks I could find in the shop. It also had 700c wheels (as opposed to 26” wheels). Now, these are 700x35mm rims. That's important because, when you ride a lot, you get a lot of flats. I'm no stranger to flat tires. Happens all the time. With 700x35mm wheels the tires almost fall off when it goes flat. And they go back on just as easy. Not so with skinny racing tires or any 26” wheels. I don't need special tools to get the thing off, just a patch kit and a pump to fix the flat.

I tie my sleeping bag to my handle bars. It's a Coleman with shoe string ties. Was a pain in the rear at first to get tight enough, but it didn't take me too long to learn. I can have my sleeping gear out, set up, then stowed and mounted in less than ten minutes. When one of Livermore's finest tells me I have to move, that makes it a whole lot easier, rest assured.

When I purchased my bike, I already knew you could get special racks for the front end. I had to special order those. The guys at Livermore Cyclery mounted all of them for me, of course. I just didn't have the tools at the time. It took a little over a week to ge the front racks, but I road out of the store with my back rack and bags mounted.

I have to say this, however. The guys at Livermore Cyclery tried to tell me that front bags were a bad idea. I was better off with a trailer.

Wrong!

Never let anyone tell you this. A trailer replaces back bags, not front ones. There is virtually no weight on the front of your bike when you're under weigh with front bags. There's so much torque when I take off front a standing stop that my front wheel still comes off the ground even with the bags on it. That's where I keep all my clean cloths, by the way. I keep other stuff in the back bags, including the two blankets I use for pads, the tarp I put on the ground in winter (against the cold ground). Tools, and miscellaneous gear.

The stress from the bags all ends up on the back wheel. I've had to replace spokes there. Oh, and never, EVER use one of those wheel sleeve bike racks when you have bags. You will break spokes in them!

The bags and racks are worth more than the bike itself. I spent $650 just on those. The bike cost $450 at the time, all of it brand new.

80lbs of bike. People ask me sometimes if it's difficult to balance. Nope. It rides like a heavy bike. And I can get the thing up to a nice clip if I'm not facing a head wind.

There have been three attempts by thieves to steal it. Imagine, Attempted Bicycle Theft! Failed attempts. The first time I might have lost it. It was serendipity that I did not. I was visiting a friend who lived in an apartment complex in town, and my friend suddenly noticed my bike was no longer where I'd left it. I ran out of the apartment and found it, in pieces. The tools I had, by then, accumulated were gone. Some other minor items. But I was lucky enough not to have lost it...

I did, however, lose it. I was screaming obscenities at the top of my lungs. I'd never felt so violated.

I've spoken of the other two instances. Both times were by a well known thief and methhead named Leonard Mooney. He did not, of course, succeed because I watch it like I hawk if there's any danger of people making off with it.

I now am secure enough in my job to ride it to work again. Confident that Bosslady likes me enough that when (not if) she figure's out I'm homeless it won't mean automatic termination. So I'm putting more miles on it than I had been in the last few months. Feels good...

But the next time I talk about a homeless man losing his bike due to theft or whatever else... that's about equivalent someone burning down your house... just so you know.

Have We Been Properly Introduced?

Homelessness for Stupid People

The foibles of the most pampered homeless population in the Bay Area...

Someone posted to me that I should blog about what I do for other people... this isn't going to be what that person had in mind, not by a long shot. If I do do something nice for someone, I'm not going to talk about it. Glory is never a good reason to do someone a favour. Giving should never be done with the expectation of reward on any level. Most parents understand this... at least, I hope they do.

This column is not just for the homeless. It's for everyone. But it is definitely for the homeless, especially those who are truly trying. I'm hoping it's part of the solution... maybe I'll find out someday... But I hope you read it with your own life in mind...

Oh, and people (you homeless people out there)... stop talking! Keep your mouth shut for a while and listen. Many of you aren't very good at listening with anything but your lips flapping... it's something a lot of you need to work on!

What I am going to talk about is something of a lost art. It's an art that needs to make a roaring come back...

Have you ever, in your life, been speaking with two people, friends to you, strangers to each other, and failed to introduce them? I have. It took me a very long time to understand how rude a thing this is.

You may laugh, of course. I believe it was some story involving some Southern Belle or another (maybe it was Gone With The Wind) in which some woman told a man she could not speak with him because they had not been properly introduced. I cannot remember when I first heard of this, but I was very young and it struck me, at the time, as being a ridiculous evasion.

The problem is this: as I grew older and realized that people truly do desire to make human connections (at least, normal people desire that). A proper introduction is one of the best gifts you can give. Humility, shyness and embarrassment are barriers a Proper Introduction overcomes.

For the homeless, and for, I am quite sure, many other circumstances, proper introductions can make life easier. Bob and Donna McKenzie who work the Warming Centre every evening it's open, understand this instinctively. They make sure each new person that comes in is introduced to those who can help the most amongst their fellow homeless.

An introduction will let people know if they can be comfortable with this new person. It is an invitation to attempt conversation, and conversation breeds comfort.

It also accomplishes something else very important, especially amongst the homeless. It allows people who may have difficulty with social graces develop those necessary skills.

If you think that's hyperbole, consider this: how many people do not get a job because they lack social graces? Hmmmmm?

The more people one has contact with, the more feedback they will get as to what is and is not acceptable. Just an aside: I told a friend today that she raised her voice inappropriately... she said she was thankful and asked me to continue doing it. That just happens to be something I strongly believe a real friend will do. Honesty and trust are important between friends. Brutal Honesty delivered well is equally important. (In case you didn't notice, brutal honesty is a running theme in this blog...)

A proper introduction offers comfort to those around you. Introducing that guy to that girl might not seem like a big deal to you... but it may be for them! Introducing that business man to that guy who's looking for work... introducing that kid to that font of seemingly useless information... Introducing anyone to anyone... do it, sit back, and watch what happens!

Before I go on, I have to define what I mean when I say “Friend.” A friendship, a real one, is based on trust and respect of the highest order. A friend is someone you bounce ideas off. It's someone with whom you share events in your life. It's someone who shows you patience, understanding and gives you feedback based on what you tell them and how much trust you show them. Friendship is a very vulnerable state to be in. If you've ever had a friend, or someone you thought was a friend, betray you, you'll understand this.

Imagine (and some of you do not have to) that your friend is a former lover, ex spouse, or someone very, very close to you of the opposite sex (or not, if you're of a different persuasion). Suddenly you meet that very special someone who you fall madly in love with. You may find yourself in a quandary. This new person in your life, are you going to keep them away from your ex or that friend? Is it suddenly awkward for you to be friends with that trusted person?

The best course of action, in my opinion, is to make that introduction. Allow them to engage and learn from that experience who these two are by how they relate to each other.

Allow the two of them to decide if they will get along. A real friend will respect your lover, and a true love will respect that you have a good friend. If there's conflict between them, ask them to work it out. Don't stand in the middle or try to keep them apart. It will crush you and be miserable for the two of them. The point is this, the two of them will let you know if that friendship is going to be a real problem after the introduction is made. If it's a problem before it's made, that's a different situation, and you should either reconsider your friendship or your new love, depending on who has the problem...

If you attend a church or synagogue, it's highly likely you've made friends there. Now, I go to Cedar Grove, and one of the things people do practice there are proper introductions, so I've met quite a few people. I haven't really met anyone I don't like at Church, though forming connections is never guaranteed. Those that are uncomfortable with you simply won't form that connection after being introduced, for whatever reason.

Note, please, that I would not introduce someone I do not trust to someone that I trust without making it clear to the person I trust if I make that introduction at all. I would not, for instance, introduce anyone to Adam Parris. I would (and have) pointed him out to people.

Human Connections is how communities form. It's how we, as people, learn to be good to each other. It's how we, as people, learn not to be selfish. In the long run, human connections solve more problems than they cause and forms a bulwark against those that would do harm.

All of it can start with a proper introduction.

Permanent Solution... NOT!

On July 10, Christopher Bowman was stabbed to death, allegedly by Matthew Jacobsen. He was thirty five years old. It happened at the Julian Street Inn in San Jose, a permanent homeless shelter that offers a variety of services to single men.

Conflict between Homeless Men is inevitable. Boys will be Boys and all that... just the way it is. When you add methamphetamine and alcohol into the mix, it gets worse.

The circumstances between Bowman and Jacobsen I am completely unfamiliar with, save that a man is dead, another man is accused, and it happened at a permanent homeless shelter.

There are those of you reading this who would truly like to see a permanent homeless shelter in Livermore. There are also a whole lot of you who are horrified at the idea, but cannot articulate why. I fall into the category of those opposed to it. The difference between me and most is that I can articulate why.

The Livermore Homeless Refuge (we call it the “Warming Centre”) is closed for the season, and has been since April 30^th. On that night, it was a relatively warm night, and it would have been closed save that it has become a newer tradition for it to be open for that last day so those of us who endured the time together can... bond, for lack of a better term.

Bob and Donna McKenzie put up all the gear, and give away a lot of it. Everyone gets a new sleeping bag. We all get sanitary wipes (which I love, by the way, it makes being clean easier), and whatever else we might need. Bob and Donna, I've mentioned before, do a lot. Sandra Chesterman was, of course, there, and she cooked for us, as she did last year. It's her second year as the director of the program.

Sandra, Bob and Donna are the tripod that keeps the program going. Nobody else does nearly as much as those three. I like to give people Nicknames... I call Bob “The Quiet Man,” Donna is “The Taxidermist” and Sandra is “the Babe” (yeah, Gary, that's just for you!)

I should not forget to mention that it was Pastor Doug Quedara who founded the operation. He's the Pastor at Vineyard Christian Fellowship at 460 North Livermore Avenue. Go say hello to him any Sunday. If you're a Christian, you won't regret experiencing one of his services. Good guy who raised a lot of girls... he might remind you a bit of Mr. Bennett from Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice... he has that type of wit about him.

A lot of things happened over the course of last season at the Warming Centre.

At Christmas Eve Sandra used some available funds to rent rooms for a bunch of the homeless at a local motel. Boston Bill smoked up the room he was in, left a mess of beer cans all over the place, and wouldn't leave till four hours after check out time. The room was unusable for three days.

Anthony called one of the Volunteers a “racist” after he was told to leave for a variety of problems. The police asked later “does that guy ever shut up?”

And Typhoid Mary, who claimed to have had both forms of Meningitis got the Warming Centre shut down on a very cold night while Sandra, Bob and Donna disinfected every surface at the mission and had the carpets sanitized twice. A bunch of people slept out in weather that was, if I remember correctly, below 30 degrees. Typhoid Mary earned her nickname that night, we've called her that ever since. It turns out, according to her doctors, she's never had either form of meningitis.

We had no violence that I can remember this season (with the exception of Adam Parris slashing my bicycle tires, but that's another story). We've had threats of it before. Sandra was threatened. Both Bob and Donna have been threatened. Sandra has the luxury of a husband that could probably knock anyone I know down without breaking a sweat. Bob and Donna, however, are both pushing 80... And as amazing a presence as both of them have, it's up to the rest of us to back them up when they need backing up. It's happened more than once. All three of them have been severely punished for their good deeds.

What is more, the Warming Centre struggles to find volunteers. I remember last November, Jim Schitter interviewed me for St. Charles Catholic Church. The point of that interview was to get volunteers for the Warming Centre. I keep forgetting to ask him if seeing an ugly man flap his lips for forty minutes had any impact... I kinda doubt it...

There is a homeless woman in Livermore who wants to take over Dania Hall on 2^nd and South N Street and turn that into a permanent refuge. Interesting thought, surely. Also, many would like to see the old library on South Livermore Avenue and Pacific turned into a permanent refuge.

For reasons that have nothing at all to do with anything I'm telling you, both ideas seem, to me at least, completely unrealistic and unlikely to happen. I'm thankful for this.

Notwithstanding is the fact that, between May 1^st and Holloween, living on the streets of Livermore, so long as one decides to do it right, is not so horrible a circumstance to have to live with. Yeah, you'll hear whining and complaining, but it's survivable. I've done it for three and a half years and I have to laugh at some of the folks who complain bitterly about it.

As much as I have articulated bad behaviour on the part of certain homeless, the majority are pretty well behaved.

Now, I have not been around too many people these last couple of weeks. But I am told, through the grape vine, that a lot of those I've written about over the course of the last few weeks are behaving rather well. I wouldn't have any drama, pathos or events to report anyway! The humanity! What's a blogger with a hunger for drama to do?

Conflict in a Homeless Shelter is unavoidable. Having workers there, even paid ones, equipped to deal with potential problems is difficult even for our seasonal operation. Imagine the can of worms we'd be opening if a permanent shelter existed. Livermore is simply too small a community to invite these kinds of big city problems into its midst. And I, for one, would like to someday see children playing on the wide streets of old Livermore the way they did when I was a child...

In San Jose they have a whole lot of homeless problems we do not have. It appears that San Jose is about as well equipped to deal with the issue as Livermore might be now, but they have allowed the problem to fester and become established. We don't have to. The homeless here, by and large, are more “gentile” than the homeless elsewhere. They must be just to survive.

A homeless shelter is a stop gap. It keeps people from dying of exposure on the streets. It is not a solution to homelessness. That, my friends, is a discussion for another time... maybe when I figure it out myself...

Freaky Weird Stuff...

Some of the weird things you see when you're homeless... it truly is amazing.

Last Night... It's coming up on ten at night, we're in the courtyard outside the library and there are more than a few people there using the WiFi, watching YouTube or whatever. My friend Mike and Nick and Kyle (who is too lovable for his own good... he's like a big dumb dog that you just want to throw a frisbee with... and watch him catch it while riding his skateboard into parked cars...) Robert's there, Ricky's there... and three I had never seen before sitting at the tables in front of Tommie's.

So, one of those guys, he's wearing a beard, tall, not old, maybe early thirties. He gets up and starts asking everyone (except me as I'm sitting there chain smoking while I'm watching the latest episode of Dexter...) for a lighter. I didn't get up. I figured he'd get to me sooner or later, and I'd give him a light. I just was too engrossed in my show...

Well, nobody had one for him, and he never came to me, so I paid him no mind at all...

The guy sits back down, and Kyle skates off to the White Store (what everyone has always called Fast Mart on East Ave), and goes and buys one. I didn't know this, but that's what he did. He bought the guy a lighter, came back and gave it to this guy.

That was nice, sure. Except the guy didn't use it to light up a smoke.

Instead, he starts lighting up these little slips of paper right there by his table. There must have been ten of them, and he held them just long enough so they wouldn't burn his fingers.

I just watched, incredulous. I was also afraid, more than anything, that it was going to attract some kind of attention... like someone calls the police and those homeless amongst us get blamed (that's happened, by the way).

Later, it occurred to me how creepy weird that was. What could possibly be so private you have to make the effort to beg for a lighter to burn?

I suppose you can imagine the conspiracies that went through my head. Yeah, the guy was Arabic... no, don't go there...

And part of me wanted to talk to the Network Admin from the Library, who also works with the security system... I didn't... I told Kelly in the morning about it... but you know what? It probably something so very innocent...

I wish he hadn't burned the stuff in front of us, though...

It still strikes me as very strange, and I wasn't ever going to blog about it. Robert told me I should just do it because when you're homeless you really do see a lot of weird stuff...

Using Children for Greed

This Facebook friend of mine shared this photograph with the prerequisite expressions of sympathy to join small army of heartfelt comments...

“Why don't they stop spending money on the military and help the homeless?” one commenter asked. “F...ing government! They have to DO something!” Blah, Blah, Blah...

You know, I can understand these sentiments. I had an argument which turned into a less heated discussion with one person on Facebook over this issue. I pretty much expected the reaction. My attitude about the whole thing isn't what most people would expect, and, at first, it certainly wasn't welcome.

I've posted about this kind of thing before, but this so drives my point home it isn't funny. My attitude is bred of more experience than I care to remember or write about.

When you are a woman, and you have small children, there is NO END to the amount of help available to you!

Tri Valley Haven, Shepherd's Gate, Bay Area Rescue and more are all available locally, and there are organizations across the country that will help a mother with children. They'll get them into lodgings, help her get a job, give them child care... cripes... if you ask them, they might even wipe your nose for you!

Let me tell you what it is you're looking at in this photograph.

You are looking at a mother using her small children to collect free money. I've already posted about how people flying signs here in the valley can get $200 in a day. That's about $22 an hour if they're actually sitting on the curb for eight hours. How lucrative do you think it is to sit with your kids when a man flying a sign by himself can get that much money in a day?

And before you decide to condemn me for what I'm telling you, consider this: is the woman in the photograph homeless at all? There are more than a few fake homeless people out there... why? $22 an Hour!

If nothing else, child labour law should apply here. She's not even holding her own sign, for crying out loud... she's making her kids do it!

Folks, what you're looking at is child abuse exercised with greed as the motive.

Tweakers, or, Methamphetamine and the Homeless

I could rattle off so many names of methamphetamine addled people... we call them “Tweakers” out here...

I've known for a while now that meth does something to the brain. It changes it for the worse. I see little in the way of consistent behaviour of meth addicts, save that they all seem to be a little strange, a little off, and difficult to reason with. The other most common tendencies, in my experience, are toward thievery and violence, in that order.

Among the homeless, meth addiction is rampant. At least half of all the homeless I know have been exposed to it. It has got to the point where if I see a thief, I automatically assume that person does meth, and if I know someone does meth, I assume that person is also a thief. I'm right too often not to make that assumption, it's become part of me.

And what is also sad is this: there are people out there who would otherwise be valuable friends who are on the stuff.

There's this one homeless man, I'll call him Jay. Unless you are completely brain dead, Jay will strike you as dangerous. It would probably be true whether or not he ever did meth, he's just that type of guy. Like most people who do meth, he is a little off. Not quite right. He'll talk to you in circles around what he really means to say, never quite getting to the point, but getting his point across in his way. The way he speaks, it will be enough to make you nervous without his having issued a threat.

Frightening though Jay may be, you can't help but like him. Having a conversation with him you get the sense that this man actually has a sense of honour about him. You'll become aware that he does live by a certain code. He will not cross you if he doesn't feel he's been crossed by you first.

I've heard of things Jay's done, and they're not pretty. He has a history of violent behaviour and a well established reputation of being dangerous. A few of those who know him suspect he suffers from extreme bouts of rage. He's highly intelligent and, do I dare say, cunning. He's what one might think of as a Bad Boy on Steroids. I only ever saw Jay do one thing that could be described wrong. I saw him drop a man with one punch. I really don't know the details of how he got into the fight, but that impressed me greatly.

I imagine that at some point, I'll be close enough to something Jay's does to have to write about it. At that point, he'll be enraged and I'll have to watch my back very carefully. Jay doesn't mess around. What would Jay be like had he never done meth? I imagine he'd probably be the kind of man one could rely upon to have your back.

There are others, of course, who I cannot imagine being any way other than what they are. This probably has more to do with how far gone they are. Methamphetamine is not the only drug plaguing the homeless, of course. There is a lot of pill popping, and some heroin. A whole lot of pot smoking. Meth, in my opinion, is simply the most dangerous.

I was speaking with Joe Van Fossen the other day, having a long conversation about just this subject. I only recently started speaking with Joe. He's a university student, very young, with the dream of becoming a doctor. I told Joe that I believed methamphetamine to be the biggest contributing factor to homelessness amongst those who use it. In the course of the conversation he began to describe to me why methamphetamine does what it does, why it's so addictive and why it changes brain chemistry.

I have to tell you, I'm not very good at following conversations about biochemical effects, but I managed to understand enough of what he was saying to conclude that I was right in my thinking. What follows is Joe's summary of what meth does to the brain. Having read it, I have to beg all of you parents out there: do what ever it takes to keep this stuff away from your children. It will destroy their lives.

Speeding to Psychosis

By Joe Van Fossen

Methamphetamine messes up your brain, simply put. Specifically, it alters the brain's reward system.

The reward system consists of a few structures in the middle of the brain that work with other structures to regulate emotional response and influence behavior. Dopamine (a chemical released by neurons to send signals to other neurons), plays a key role in driving what people do.

When you eat, read, write, use the bathroom, exercise, fall in love, make love, see somebody you love, breathe a particular way, you experience a natural rush of dopamine in the form of relief, happiness, peace of mind. Anytime you feel good, great, or better, dopamine is being released and reabsorbed in your brain.

Natural dopamine release (or the lack thereof) is crucial for our survival because it increases the likelihood that we will repeat behaviors that preserve and proliferate our existence; it really has a powerful effect on what we do and what we do not do.

The dopamine system can easily be hijacked. People do it all the time. Even you. How?

From overindulgence, a broad term which here means to repeat a pleasurable act for the feel-good feeling it gives you, and especially to your detriment.

Of all things to indulge in, methamphetamine is the most dangerous. It lets loose more than ten-fold the amount of dopamine released after sex. The relative amount of "feel-good" is supposedly unparalleled-- as is the crash.

Methamphetamine's over-stimulation of dopaminergic neurons induces a dopamine psychosis: including the highest high and the lowest low. Speed affects the reward system and, thus, behavior. Damage occurs right away.

The addiction pattern of meth-users (often called “tweakers”) is largely consistent in that erratic and irrational behaviors develop and persist. Three common interpersonal behaviors exhibited by most tweakers are theft, violence, and deception.

Why so consistent?

Most meth-users share a similarly out-of-whack reward system. They all crave the intensity of their first rush (now impossible to achieve, due to neuronal damage and "natural" down-regulation), but the damage caused with each use decreases the brain's capacity to release and receive dopamine. Each addict has an insatiable dopamine craving.

The urge is so powerful that it out-competes both natural and deeply conditioned drivers of behavior. People who abuse meth have a tendency to choose the drug over food, sleep, and even water; let alone responsibilities of family, hygiene, and work.

In the long-term, damage to the brain’s limbic reward system is usually irreversible. The least extreme damage could include a temporary (one or more years) decrease in mental capacity and cognitive functioning. Most heavy users, however, suffer less temporary deficits in holistic neural functioning—if they manage to quit. Meth leaves some dead, some scarred, and many unable to feel happy again, persistently doing whatever it takes to chase their first methamphetamine high.

Private Life

Homelessness for Stupid People

The foibles of the most pampered homeless population in the Bay Area...

I was watching my friend Ricky's bags the other day. They were sitting on a bench next to the one I sat on and this woman comes up with a camera, points it at his stuff, and takes pictures.

“What do you think you're doing?” I asked her. She tried to make some excuse that she was having an event or some such BS and I proceeded to make it pretty clear how rude I thought she was. Was it rude? Yeah, I think so. Was it a violation of Ricky's privacy? That's a bigger question...

Various people have complained to me about how I had violated their “Right To Privacy” with what I'd posted in my blog... which I found insanely amusing considering everything I've written of had been done publicly. No, Judy, you were not the only one to whine about it. You were just the only one who exceeded 300 decibels doing it...

Serendipity is a funny thing. It was a couple of days later I sat in Tommie's Cafe having one of those interesting conversations with Yvonne's Pet-Man Pat... he's the silver haired guy with the James Earl Jones Baritone voice, and we're meandering through all kinds of topics the way dogs will follow rabbit trails, and we come to the issue of privacy.

“I don't have any,” I told Pat.

Pat looked at me in his characteristically thoughtful mode for a moment before acknowledging that it had to be true.

But I started reading up on Privacy following my conversation with Pat (the guy tends to force me to do that... not knowingly... but he's always got something on his mind that sends my mind through half a dozen loops... conversations with Pat are always compelling)

Now, the American Civil Liberties Union will tell you that a combination of amendments to the U.S. Constitution create the right to privacy (the do not “protect” but “create” the right, which I found interesting all by itself). They make great effort to mishmash together the 1^st Amendment Right to Assemble, the 4^th Amendment Protection against Illegal Search and Seizure, the 5^th Amendment Protection against Self Incrimination and the 14^th amendment rights to Due Process and Equal Protection... heady stuff...

If you think arguments supporting the “Right to Privacy” are ambiguous and difficult to understand at best, you'd have a lot of company. The foundation for most of those arguments were originally published in the Harvard Law Review in 1890 as “The Right to Privacy” by Brandeis and Warren. The document mostly concerns the press publishing gossip and scandal, but its influence on legal attitudes cannot be denied. No court ever supported the Right to Privacy before its publication.

But the Warren and Brandeis work spoke of protecting “the privacy of private life”.

I should remind everyone that what you do in public cannot be labelled “private.”

Warren and Brandeis attempted, in their interesting wisdom, to disconnect “Privacy” from “Property.”

Well guess what... when you are homeless, you're not propertied! Everything you do is subject to someone's observation. Nothing, and I mean nothing you do is private! You are always subject to some intrusion by anyone walking around the corner.

Yes, folks, it's one of the reasons homeless people are different from most of the rest of you. The smart ones are cagey and suspicious of strangers. When someone new is hanging about suddenly that raises hackles. That, of course, is about instinct bread of experience.

I'll use myself and my good friend Ricky as an example here, simply because we both have jobs, we both have all our belongings attached to our bicycles, so we live in a similar fashion.

At any given time, the police can arrive and find an excuse to go through our bags. LPD did that to me once. It was annoying, but I survived. Had to refold my cloths. But I did get rid of a lot of accumulated useless crap, so they actually did me a favour... Was that a violation of the Illegal Search and Seizure clause in the 4^th Amendment? I'm sure the ACLU would think so, but they'd probably have a difficult time making the case. It was not a pleasant experience, granted, but I don't have any porn in my bags, or anything else to be embarrassed about... (well... dirty skivvies...)

Neither one of us, Ricky or me, have a reasonable expectation of privacy just based on the fact that we're both homeless, and we both have to engage in some “odd behaviour” that will raise suspicions. That's one of the reasons I'm thankful that there are some police on LPD who at the very least recognize me. One pair found me one night and said “I know him, he's all right...” (and went on to mention Mark Watters... who is a whole other story I should tell at some point...) That offhand comment kinda made my week...

If you google “Illegal Search and Seizure Homeless” you'll mostly find instances of local governments clearing homeless encampments. The ACLU would have you believe this is always illegal. The City of Livermore has done this several times each year, and they always give reasonable warning, often three days, for the homeless to clear out. At that point, they will clear an encampment. It's one of the reasons I don't have one.

But the biggest reason has to do with that lack of privacy. Having people know where you sleep is never a good idea. Those days when I am observed by unwanted eyes, I leave. I can do that. Mobility is a skill I carefully cultivated.

When everything you do can be observed, it will be observed.

If you're homeless, or you think you might be homeless, you have to get over it and live with it. You have no recourse to protect yourself from it except to remember it always.

I'm still ticked about that woman with the camera... I may not have a right to privacy, but I sure as hell have a right to free speech!

Lady, that was just rude!

To Take A Shower...

Homelessness for Stupid People

The foibles of the most pampered homeless population in the Bay Area...

My vacation is over... not that it really was a vacation. Even amongst “normal” people, unemployment is seldom considered a vacation.

But I'm back to work, and reminding myself of certain realities that exist when you have a job and are homeless. No, I'm still going to be homeless. Unless I hit the lottery (and since I'm not stupid enough to play, that's not happening) I'm going to be homeless. That or if suddenly Bosslady decides my wages are going to be $18-$20 an hour... and she increases my hours to full time...

Anyway, not happening. Still sleeping outside, still trying to make sure I get a shower.

Mondays and Fridays, now out for me. I won't be showing up at Vineyard on Monday or Trinity on Friday because... well, I'm working! So I'll have to make other arrangements.

I'll make Wednesday at Asbury.

Part of keeping a job is at least looking and smelling presentable. So this is a pretty big deal. I'll be able to make those arrangements, but it'll still be tough. I'll largely be dependent on friends who aren't much better off than I am.

That said, I want to keep this job. For one thing, it's conveniently easy to get to. I have no problem being on time and doing the work. Commuting any length of time would be way to much to handle. I had a hard time with it when I had a place to live.

Bosslady is exactly the type I like to work for. She's no-nonsense, straight shooter who has standards and won't take any back talk. She reminds me a little of Chief Steinhardt, the executive officer back on Coast Guard Cutter Hudson. Well, Bosslady's not quite as gruff or loud as Chief Steinhardt was. I don't think she could bellow down Hudson's 160 foot length and give you the impression he can see every smudge you missed on that brass you're supposed to be polishing... but you get the idea...

I won't have to worry about running out of money, either. The way I've been surviving is by taking the odd job here and there, busting ass, doing it as best I could, and hoping I did it well enough so someone would call me up and offer me another. That's been hit and miss, but I haven't actually run out of money since I got laid off last August. I've managed to stay off GA and Foodstamps, and I'm thankful that there will be no need, assuming Bosslady stays happy with me, to ever go there.

But showers will be a problem.

While I was driving the Dial A Ride minivan, I was all over he place and I made enough to get a membership for 24hour Fitness. I'd grab a shower daily on my lunch break at which ever facility I was closest to, be it Stockton or San Jose or San Carlos.

But this is not a driving job, and the 24 hour fitness has moved. I don't make enough with this new job to pay for that membership with this new job, anyway, so that's really not an option.

For now, it's going to be hit and miss... but I'll muddle through it with an electric razor, wipes and the bathroom where I work... and the occasional luxurious shower at a friends home...

You folks that have your own... you have no idea what a luxury it is till you don't have it any more...