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.


Never met a Person Who was Not a mess


Not one, Not you. If I now you, you’re a mess.

Okay, I Know Darrell Johnson…he is not a mess…but he makes his life such. So it goes.

I love people and the are such effed up. Grace will save them all.

I once loved a woman more that any many I have known.  I wanted to grow old with her. Love of my life. She won’t acknowledge me now. Its okay. In time and beyond space she will get it

But not now. Not ever…here.

Faith, hope, love..these three abide way beyond me or you. Count on it.

I am dust.


This is what it takes…

Funny no hearts for me...

Two emergency room visits…8.9 mikes of walking, 4 bags of saline, some grace from my son. a possible referal to 7 days of detox (please if John Helicx in SF will finally have me…I have waited SOOOOO long).I have been treted with undeniable grace the last weeks.

It is BOTH my fault I decided to drink at 18) and not my fault at all (I am dual diacosgnosed Bi-polar 2). No on knew.

We are i’ ll gonna die. Me probably wayy sooner than you. But have hope sweet ones. Nothing is ultimately tragic given His resurrection. You are loved.

I said a cruel think to my Dad the other day. I was true…but I regretted it because it showed disrespect and you she never show your father disrespect.

Did my di teach me this? No. My Father in heaven did forhim.

So he said “yer gonna die!”  probably ture. . The I shot back “Yer 81…you’ll die before me.”

Disrespect. Rude and immature for me.

Only God orders these things.

But my Father in heaven was right. I disrespected my father on earth…and …shit…now i have to repent even though I am near death myself.

I will be dead soon enough. Then resurrected to new life in Christ. I wish I had done better…truly. I throw myself on love and grace.

Portland: cold, wet and no one has any sense of direction.

I’m not bitter…it is just weird. I have never been so cold, wet and sleep dreprived as in Portland That and hen you ask any Portlander for directions they look suddenly like a deer in the headlights…”Nope…sorry, no idea where the Safeway or Starbucks is”.

Just weird. And consistant. Like 100 out of 100 times: “No idea…er, ahhh no”.

What I did get was six months sober, a real program and a renewed faith (which I needed badly).

Guess I am testing that faith now going blind to Sacto.

Son Thomas and a few others think it a mistake. Others think that is dorky. I cannot decide. But I tried to make a go of it here. I am just too cold, wet and inebriated.

And no one here is gonna be able to tell me where the Amtrack is…clueless.



Get to Sacto and find a detox center that undertands bi-polarity. Give myself over. Let people there love me.

Get better. Not happening here. And CityTeam, for all their help, admits they cannot help me. I am too “big” (whatever that means).

The Jig is up…

Lost my cellphone and I am  fairly ruined…

People wished they helped Spalding Gray before he threw himself in The Hudson…. well here is your chance.



Spalding Gray was mentally ill.  I don’t wanna follow him.

I just lost my phone. It’s disturbing .

I just wanna gio home to Sacramento.



Hebrews 11.

I need a ride. Can ya help? I need to go HOME. To Sacramento.

Simple. Call me 917.321.4231


Three chords and the truth

It’s really hard to admit, after 53 years of toil…but I am mentally ill.

Could be worse. I could not know it…like most do not. You cannot convince them.

I am convinced.

It is embarrassing. Naked and a bit raw. I mean, wear it for a minute and you will feel it. “Mentally ill”.

Not nice…not clean …

But I know I am and that is worthwhile. Most who are mentally ill do not know or won’t admit. I do.

At the Eugene Mission is was everywhere. I sat with men who were far more gone than I could even imagine. One man, “Track” looked like Paul Giamatti minus his lithium. Scary. He scared even me and I do not scare easy.

Life on the streets is filled with those who are simply ill. They need meds and attention. I dunno…maybe this is my new calling because I am one of  them.

I am dual diagnosed. Thanks to my sister Heather I am on record as such. It matters. There may be a program for me.

Think of the men and women who are not so diagnosed and have no hope.

I Know.



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