Homeless

Thursday, Dec 29th 2022

I am dreading the idea of homelessness, even if it is voluntary and I could bail anytime I choose. I can't decide if I should destroy my access to funds, to all finances, or keep money readily available to fly right back to... to where? If I admit it, I will be legitimately homeless. I have money but I am not willing to spend it on expensive short term shelter just because an injustice was done to me. The Masters of the State demand I appear before them. Dramatic? Maybe I am too dramatic. They don't even tell me when I must appear. Maybe it isn't so dramatic, they fucked with my whole life just because they are trying to run some bums out of town. I shouldn't have shown any independent thought or action, no defiance even if they were in the wrong and I was in the right. Fuck them. But, I should have remembered, as Lao Tzu says, "The wise man never has a staring contest against a man with a gun". All I know is I was weak and the cop was powerful. Am I weak against The Masters of the State? Can I fight an actual law, even if it is a bullshit harmful law? I don't know. Someone should be trying to. I just realized it is Thursday night. Saturday is the 31st. I officially have no home in two days. Thailand is so tempting. Statue of limitations on a misdemeanor warrant is... fuck off, no expiration.

Saturday December 31st 11:45 am.

I go stilt tonight. $700 for three hours work. Not bad for a homeless dude, well, the shift ends at midnight and I stay the last night at Joe & Kiras place. Nero is such a little rascal. Still haven't sold the Pontiac. I'll just keep dropping the price until it's gone and then I will get my bicycle and pedal up to Redding. Heading North. Fuck it's gonna be cold in January NorCal. As protest... read outloud declaration of independence, constitution, all the supreme laws of the land? That might be too dramatic. Should I look for work in Redding? Yes. It would be interesting to see who passes judgement quickly. Limit my financial resources? No, I think safety concerns outweigh protesting authentically... hmmm... maybe they don't... if I want to do this I should commit. Maybe I could read song lyrics as protest, ghost of tom joad?

January 1st.

Spent the early morning fixing a flat tire. Spent the rest of it avoiding making any real, solid plan... other than; I'll do it tomorrow. Most everything is closed today anyway and I can still sleep in my car until it sells.

January 2nd 12:01 am.

First night proper homeless. Intentional homeless and with a car, but still, no home to go home to. Lonely. I miss my wife. Drove up the road from Kenny's, to the local library. Will spend the day in the library making plans, sending emails. It is raining something fierce. Flooding throughout Cali. Expected to continue for weeks weather report says. Dampens my resolve to get on my bicycle. Glad my car didn't sell, but lowered the price again because maybe I need a push to do this. It seemed so simple as a plan, not so simple alone in the dark listening to the heavy downpour on the roof. I haven't ever appreciated this car as a barrier from the elements. It sure feels invaluable now. I'll try to get some sleep, probably breaking the law by doing so. Civil disobedience or just exhausted?

January 2nd 12:30 am.

Security drove by and shown a light in the vehicle but they didn't approach. Probably were appreciating their barrier from the elements. I just stayed still under my blanket like a frightened animal. 7:15 am. Slept well once security drove away. Rain has stopped. Sun is peaking out. 10:00 am, called the courts & DA, no answers. Now waiting for the library to open. Ah, shit, all government offices closed for an additional day for the New Year being on a weekend day. I have to pee and use a tree around the side of the building. On my way back I see a man who appears to be homeless sitting on the sidewalk. I realize libraries are the new age sanctuary for the wretched of humanity. I say hello and we talk a bit and I explain my situation, leaving out the part of being voluntarily homeless as it seemed... it just seemed wrong, like I was an imposter and I didn't want to let him find out I was spying on his way of life, or something like that. We just chatted in the sunshine outside the library for awhile, neither of us had anywhere to be or anything to do until the library opened the next day so we just sat there, and, honestly, it was quite enjoyable. He was a drug addict he said, alcoholic and gambler. His girlfriend had dumped him and so now he was homeless. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but of course I was weary, and I think he was too. That is just how people interact on the streets, it wasn't awkward. So, while we are trading police bum busting stories he suggests I call Camping World to get evidence that I had permission to be there. I thought that was a good idea. He records me while I call all the Camping Worlds in California on speaker phone and ask if I pass through can I stay in my car there for the night. They all say it is no problem. I feel pretty good about that, maybe the DA will just drop the case since they have no case. I have a sushi lunch date so I give my new friend a dollar and go to my car to leave. I am an imposter. As I begin driving out of the parking lot I see a man sitting in a car recording me. No biggie I think, probably security, and I haven't done anything wrong. But as I get closer he flips me off. I drive over and ask what the issue is. He aggressively says things like "I don't care about you", "I hope you go kill yourself". And he mentions something about me bringing attention to the library... I can only assume he is homeless himself? I explained it was my first day being homeless and he rants on about me being 3 years too late, something about Covid, something about Trump. 

After lunch. I appreciated the conversation and advice I was given while being treated to Sushi. I didn’t take the advice though. Not then. He told me not to go be homeless, that it wouldn’t make any difference. He didn’t use those words, he was more eloquent, but that was the general gist of it. I just kept thinking, be the person you are. Be the person you want to be, and don’t be afraid of where that might lead. Be proud of the actions you take. And have friends whose actions you admire. Or at least the intentions of those actions. 8 pm. At the Carmel Mountain Library. Let’s try this again. In the morning I will make phone calls and send emails and then maybe sell the car and start the bicycle ride?The rain seems to have stopped.

January 3rd.

Slept Unmolested at the library parking lot, halfway down the row. Wasn’t sure if it was better to be upfront in the open so people know I’m not lurking, or to be back in the shadows where most unobservant people wouldn’t notice. I just went halfway. I need to find a place that is legal so I don’t risk another misdemeanor charge. Was very uncomfortable not being able to stretch the legs out is the worst. Not the worst. No, not comparatively. Waiting. Homelessness requires patience. Also, timing. How and where to change clothes? Even switching a shirt in a parking lot earned me some teenager jeering. Playful? Definitely condescending. Where to shower? Ah, I returned to Kenny’s and took a shower. I’m already over this protest, this experiment, and it’s been only two nights. I agreed with Jay that I won’t be homeless more than a month before I come to see her. 25 days to go… well, maybe these first days don’t count. 9am called the DA. Sent them the recordings showing I had permission to be at Camping World. They said the case is in review and if they decide to prosecute they will send me a letter. They said they have one year from date of incident to decide. I am not going to wait one year to go home to Jay.

January 4th. 

7:30am Been up since 4:30 and didn’t fall asleep until after midnight. Went to LA Fitness last night. Lots of other homeless people in there. Didn’t talk to anyone. Spent the night at the Park & Ride. Slept 4 hours. Everything keeps getting reduced. My needs are more basic. My clothes, simple belongings. I have way too many. I am not the type to overpack but I can’t carry all this on a bicycle. It is time to go, I can’t just stay around the libraries of San Diego, that would be a pretty lame protest. A scrap yard offered me a few hundred for the car. Best offer I’ve received so far, I figure a few hundy is a few hundy. Had to drive over to the grocery store to use the bathroom. There were bathrooms at the Park & Ride but only for bus drivers, nothing for the public. I don’t think I could have held it until the store if I had been walking or bicycling… the horrible thought of the other options I tried not to think about. My gastrointestinal tract is acting strange, from stress? Some physiological reaction to being without secure shelter? In the parking lot of Ralphs afterward I listen to a couple in a car nearby share complaints. The woman has a speech pattern that is like very californian, if you know what I mean, its like every other like word is like… I dunno, like. They have difficult lives I think as I listen to them share mundane trivialities of a productivity app on their phone loading like sooo slow.They pretend they are meeting the challenges of a tough world. It’s all relative of course. I was just thinking last night how millions of people around the world… millions and millions actually, don’t have access to clean water, how many are refugees in crowded camps slowly starving to death… and here I am complaining I didn’t sleep well last night.

Went back to the library. Where else can I go? Met a kid making a sign on cardboard. He was a suicidal drug addict. Seemed like a nice kid, eastern european, he tried to help me with some suggestions on where to go for food, which government programs were easiest to exploit, and other generally very helpful suggestions if I had truly been needy. I told him I was fighting my misdemeanors and he said I could fight it but essentially there is no real punishment for it, if I plead guilty when I go to court I would probably just get summary probation. And if I get caught breaking other laws I ask? It still wouldn’t really matter, he replied. He went on to share his story. He was 23 and had suicidal tendencies and heavy drug use for 12 years, until a recent breakup caused him to really try hard to kill himself. He just recently got out of the hospital. Mostly he says he tried to kill himself with overdose but the medics revived him twice, he said it so nonchalant, so indifferent, there was a fog of emptiness hanging around him so heavy I felt all resolve and hope start fading from me like when you place warm hands on cold steel. The steel doesn’t warm up, your hands just begin to go numb. I mentioned my father had once been addicted but he had overcome it with medical cannabis use, and I mentioned I had always been so proud of him. People who have never faced the demon of addiction can’t really understand… they have the same issue trying to understand homelessness… like it is some kind of character flaw. It isn’t, and it isn't something people can just overcome without support. It is a difficult even with support, incredibly difficult. I am hesitant to include these private anecdotes of my family life but after thinking about it for some time they are the truth’s, they are the reality. My father had been addicted, and he had persevered. And I am not ashamed of that.

1pm I went to the car and made lunch on the trunk and called the GoodNewsRescueMission in Redding to find out what resources may be available. Dottie transferred me to a case manager Cassie Kuntz. I left a message.

The addict stopped by on his exit, on his way to stand on the corner with his new sign. He let me know that the Welfare Office GR has funds available that can be placed on an EBT card. I again felt an imposter and chose not to mention I didn’t need the money. I just thanked him and kept waiting to hear back from Shasta County DA about the case review. It occurred to me that I don’t need money now, but I do need to hold onto the money I have earned. I am not asking for anything more than that. I am asking for permission, for permission, to go live my life in Thailand where my wife awaits.I have earned that right.

There are so many emotional highs and lows and sometimes so intensely at the same time. The rain was just finishing its misty curtain and the sun came out as I cut open the most perfectly ripe avocado and added on top some thai spices Jay had left me… and as I ate lunch on the trunk of my car in the library parking lot I watched the boy stand on the corner with his sign. I felt some happiness, and quite a bit of sadness. 

I called the 211 number as seen on the sides of public buses loudly proclaiming government service information available to the public. The number didn’t connect, and after 4 tries I just googled 855-211-7822, specific for NorCal. Apparently 211 is run by United Way. I asked if there were legal services & housing option information. They replied by asking me about my age, ethnicity, number of family members… and then they offered me resources to quit smoking. I don’t smoke. They had no other information for me. I called Legal Services of NorCal, Shasta County Law Library, CSU Chico Comm. Info Clinic, The National Park Service to see their policy on bicycle dispersed camping, and of course waited for Good News Rescue Mission to call me back (They are the only option in Redding). All-in-all I received zero help. Not counting the suicidal kids advice.

I need to figure it out tonight. Sold the car and time to go. Gotta get going North. I called 211 again, the full number, and asked about transportation services or bus ticket options. Nope, all public transit and pedaling would be my mode. I decide I need to message news agencies. Anewscafe.com said would be interested in the story, if I had more of a story, but they were too busy with many other things. God, it would suck to already be up in Redding, just out there cold and alone… what the hell am I doing? How can I challenge this… injustice? I dunno man, not sure I am cut out for this. I haven’t even lived outside in Redding yet and my resolve is fading… it better be stronger than this! Current plan; bus to train station, train to Redding. 7pm on the bus to Escondido then transfer to bus heading west to Amtrak.

January 5th. Thursday.

Two months since my citation for camping and sleeping. No Word from DA. No sleep last night at Solana Beach. Huddled under my umbrella at a new, different, upscale library... all through the night. The cleaning gentleman at 5am offered the bathroom for my use if I needed it. I politely refused the offer as I didn’t want to leave my things outside alone and I didn’t want to over step kindness or get him in trouble. I really truly did appreciate the gesture. Besides, I didn’t need to go. I lamented refusing the offer because it kept me out in the chilly morning and mild rain… until I saw the next custodian with a coffee cup. Why hadn’t a coffee shop occurred to me sooner? I was tired and it really had stormed hard the night before. I was proper homeless now. January 6th 6:30am Starbucks. The days start to blur together when you don't get sleep at night. Should I pitch my story to… who... VICE news? Maybe I should have thought this through before just riding up to protest. To Do: Call DA again. Email my friends my writings, maybe they have ideas… because if I just sit outside protesting with nobody watching, nobody caring, what's the point?

Standing outside the library in the early morning was only marginally less pleasant than being in this Starbucks. The banal banter, the off-key annoying (& annoyed) parody singing of a playlist which was clearly on loop everyday (dear Solana Beach Starbucks, repetitive music is used as torture tactics in some less civilized places in the world). Of course so is sleep deprivation. Anyway, time to get my morning started; Shasta DA 530-245-6300
Dear DA, It has been two months since the incident. It is three weeks until the suggested appearance date as shown on my citation. I would like to go home. Can I please have someone review my case? Your case is still under review is usually the only response I can ever get.

January 6th? 9:50am Woah. Everything changed instantly. When I spoke with the DA receptionist this time there was a tone, a smugness that scared the crap out of me. I hadn't slept last night and hadn't had much good sleep for the last few days. There were police officers outside the starbucks. I found myself being highly paranoid. My wife had also suggested the police might not take to kindly to me going back up there to protest. Anyway, when I called the DA there was a friendly conversational tone... as if she was letting me know she knew who I was. I can't explain it, and I don’t know quite what it was but I was genuinely afraid of my safety if I was to go up to Shasta. She knew who I was when I called. They must have hundreds of cases to be dealing with. I know I spoke with her a couple times in the past few days, but, there was something else, some familiarity that put me off. I wish I felt I was being dramatic or just paranoid, but that wasn't even the biggest reason I lost all hope. I was told that the date I had been assigned to show could be postponed without notice until... whenever. The DA had up to a year to decide if they want to pursue charges. I was planning on protesting 24 days, not 12 months. I’d had enough, there was no way I would be able to protest that long. I rode my bike right back to the library, went inside, and bought the next plane ticket to Thailand. How lovely it was to have that option. How horrible it must be for those without such options.

Side note; it took tremendous character to be with me through the year I mourned my fathers death and the year it took to recover from that mourning. It took just as much for this situation of uncertainty, which now puts me in a situation of deciding if I should follow through with challenging the injustice of a failing system. I have and hold considerable respect for Jay. I love you Jay. Plus, you are incredibly sexy.

I abandoned my bicycle at the Escondido transit center on the night of the 6th. It was pouring down in a torrential rage and I couldn’t bring myself to ride through the rain, and I wasn't allowed to bring the bicycle in the uber. So, I just left it with some homeless addicts at the end of the walkway. Perhaps they can use it, or sell it. It was actually a collectors bicycle; 99 Trek vrx200 dual suspension, the first dual suspension by trek... and it was sentimental to me for the family memories. That bike had been through many years of our lives... but I just didn’t have the willpower to ride it another 5 miles through the rain.

Spent the night in Dave’s trailer. The next day I packed almost everything I owned that hadn't been put in storage at my mothers house. Spent one more night? Or was it only the one night? I was ready to go home either way, so either way, after Dave's trailer I was kindly driven to LAX on the 7th. That was the extent of my endurance when living without shelter. Three nights in a car, which hardly count as homeless, and one night outside in the rain. I had been legitimately, worst case scenario homeless, for... for one single night. 

Here I am now; LAX. So many more homeless people here. I don’t remember America being like this, I don’t remember the American Dream so broken. They are huddled against a wall across from the restrooms, just a few feet down from the entrance doors. I join them. We each give extra distance, and.. I dunno, I don’t know why but I need to be around them and see who they are, who the police thought I was. The experiment isn’t over. I have 35 hours until I can check my bags and 39 hours until actually boarding. Homeless amateur anthropology. The lady down the hallway curled up on a luggage cart has started yelling at some travelers for walking too close. I expect the police to arrive any minute. I have my ticket receipt ready just in case.

January 8th 1a.m. 

The airport announcement repeats the notice that only ticketed passengers and airport workers are allowed on property. It is largely ignored. It is very cold tonight and the poor wretches come in shivering and… a very thin woman, a little younger than my mother, maybe even my age but with the look of a hard life comes in and stares at the flight board… she stares at it blankly and does a little bounce on the twigs that are her legs. I had toured the entire airport, but am now in the international terminal. I would say half of us spending the night are locals coming in from the cold. The others are layovers and a few various travelers way too early or late for their flights. Probably about 50 people all told. The front doors are open so the temperature inside is only slightly warmer than out. I still had my homeless blanket with me, I’m not sure why I wasn’t planning on taking it to Thailand, but I sure did appreciate it. I did, however, make me appear homeless. 6am I am awakened by a pissy old white dude purposefully trying to awaken me with commentary about the homeless taking up all the benches (I was only leaned back on the one seat and there were still plenty available that early). I heard his son reprimand him. As I got up slowly and stretched I made it a point to call Jay and tell her I was on my way soon and I missed her dearly and I couldn’t wait to hug her bear hug style until she couldn’t breath and could only squeak in protest… it was disgustingly cute conversation and clearly marked me as a non-homeless man. The son admonished his father even more and I walked away to get the blood flowing in my legs. 24 hours until departure. The last few days, the hours of the days, they are all confusing now. Wait, no, I have 24 hours until I can check my bags, which is 4 hours before departure, so I am still 28 hours out. I use some of those hours to finish my notes on the last two years of my life; my fathers death, Covid, relationship troubles, the roadtrip around America, reconnecting to some family, and distancing from others. All told something like 50 pages. I don’t know how to make a story of it, maybe I never will. Maybe I don’t want to.

6pm. Tired. Migraine.

There are quite a few homeless living at the airport. I mean not just wandering in but staying here. I must admit it is an easy place to sleep compared to my other nights. When half the people are ‘legitimate’ people just sleeping between flights and they look tired and haggard as well it isn’t always easy to tell us all apart. I’m not even sure how I would classify myself anymore. Am I a person of legitimacy? “The airport is closed to the public 24 hours a day seven days a week. No entry is allowed except for airline passengers and persons meeting, accompanying, or assisting them, and airport personnel… violators are subject to arrest and misdemeanor prosecution. More information can be found at lawa.org Thank you.” I googled lawa.org I didn’t find any more information about that.

January 9th.

Off to Thailand. Spoke with a lawyer just before boarding. Don’t talk to anyone he says as if I am speaking about some bank robbery. I again explain to him that I was charged with camping and sleeping on property by the name of Camping World, which I had permission to be on and that I had not actually been sleeping. I wasn’t sure how me telling someone those facts could jeopardize my criminal case. He again tried to emphasize the seriousness of this misdemeanor and I again tried to explain the sad state of this country if this is considered a serious offense. He did not impress me, just pushed to get a retainer from me by playing on my perceived fears. Maybe I should fear the government, the DA, the law. Maybe I should fear the police. Maybe I should hide my life, should only post innocuous content on socials… maybe it is better to be a mouse than a man. He didn’t impress me.