2011 – Maturity, Humor, Hulk and HELP?

Three Quotes:

“Maturity is grace under pressure ~ Ernest Hemingway

“Life if viewed from a distance is comedy; if viewed up close a tragedy” ~ Charlie Chaplin


My first night at I was a run with the other 200 men like the bulls of Pamplona through the streets of the Eugene Mission. 200 men processed like cheese and I was curd 147.

They herd you into an Olde Tyme Gospel Hour sanctuary and (I am not making this up) put on an old bad regord of bad religious tunes to warm you up. I suddenly feel I am in q 1940s Steinbeck novel and all is hopelessly lost.

But after you have been berated and send through the  Humilatior you are stripped naked upstairs and all your belongings go into a numbered bin (“You are 147”). If you are me, you look sidewise at this moment for a second, then accept.

You have 3 minutes to shower and then towel off and look for pajama tops and bottoms amkd 47 other naked men and four steel slabbed tables.

Fun huh?

Okay…stop the music. I am 6’6” and 335 lbs at this time (much bigger boy then).

So after 30 minutes of searching diligently I have something that will barely drape and pull possible up in various places….dang…

I go to the mirror. The shirt is ripping in places and shredded in others. The pants come up to just over my knees.

I start laughing.

I am The Hulk.

I think the point was in all my raves and times  over those years there was never a place that was more utter de-humanizing (Oh City Team Oakland comes close – idiots).

I was talking tonight with “Ronny” down at the river. Blue tarp, sleeping baag – who knows if they will let him camp. I brought him some pop-top soups and spoons and water, beers, fresh apples…hey…even hot popcorn! We talked a bit.

I can’t make it all better for him. But I can look him in the eye, brng some simple food and care.


It’s Good To Fear Book


Where it all began in 2009


I have feared this book (long since written) for years now . I wrote it on the run, existentially raw, at risk, on various computers and often at great risk up and down the West Coast.

I mean you would have to have been there cold, wet in a Portland doorway in a downpour ; or in Seattle with an eye gone wrong; or rolled and stolen after five months of good work and then spilled empty into the same town the woman you loved lived in…destitute.

Guns, subway trains, knives …cops kicking at your feet. Hate and loss and yearning.

But I’m cool now or you would not keep reading. No. I’m at Berkeley and hot stuff. Eh.

I once serious thought of pitching myself of the Burnstreet Bridge in Portland on a very dark night.  I have a savage self -protection module so this was rare and severe – thoughts of my only daughter Camille sobered me and weather the night.

Ther are things more important than US – like our Little girls.

Savage things happened after…next things next…maybe you live…maybe you die…sexy…but also pathetic…That’ll forge antiumantium in you.

Every storyin this book is true. It all happened –  Pinky swears.

People are afraid to tell the truth…it is not so bad…nothing really bad happens.  Maybe you laugh.

Sure, you say..”it’s easier with nothing to lose.”

True. I’ll give you that. My walking gaunt and lean in the long coat and hat at 4 a.m in the dark against four guys with golf clubs and a guy with a gun is a kinda of suicide….unless…

I had all the cards…

Six years earlier I had no idea I had any cards at all, or that there was a game..or that I could make a difference…or that…oh boy….