Coming Blogs, Trampdown Log

The Infection........

That tough Opinion

The Cell Door

The "Coal of The Wild",  A Tramp Travels...

These are a few of the titles that I have been working on. 

TRAMPDOWN LOG,July,2012....Rainy Sunday Morning

     Here I am again at the edge of a highway and that funny feeling is starting to make me nervous.  I'm surprised I lasted this long, being "hemed' up with others.  I haven't been in prison, or jailed, I've been "indoors."   I was lucky enough to have been in the right place at the right time, and someone offered to give me a, kind of , "break from the storm", I guess you could say.......Alot of changes occur when you make a transition from the street to a house, especially after being in "trampdown" mode for 18 months...And as with all changes they come with a price.  I wrote this while sitting in a coffee shop one Sunday morning as I greeted all the fellows, As they slowly made their way to shelter, for it had been raining all night, and no one was dry..
     I don't know if I will ever understand why,but it is here, that I find life full of energy.  It is here that I find all the simple things, extraordinary.  Why is it that coffee tastes better when one is wet and cold?....Watching the rain I've come to the conclusion that is is not a bad day, it is not a good day, it is only a day....And one I have been blessed with to remain vertical....I  now realize that bad days are when I just sit around, and think of what I once had, compared to what I have now.  That is a dangerous place to be, because I always seem to fall short.  So, I'll watch the rain this Sunday morning and enjoy something that I take for granted ,.... like rain!   I'm staring at a puddle of water and my thoughts are on this balancing act I try to achieve on a daily basis.  I don't know why I find it easier being outside at times, than I do when I am inside....
     This is not true for every situation, but this last venture was at times chaotic and distracting.  What I do not want to do is blame.  That helps nothing.  Blaming, pointing fingers, serves no purpose, but only reinforces the immature part of myself that seems to rely on revenge and the childish need to "always be right."....The positive, out-weighted the negative by far!..I will be forever grateful to the man who pulled myself, and two others from the fire.  There are people in this world who help those who fall, and then there are those special people who reach into the fire and offer a hand, Knowing that they also might get burned.  And that is the definition of courage.  A lesson for us all.   He gave us "all" a chance to get stable, and a break from the storm.
     So, these skies will clear, and it will be time to move on.  When new becomes old it is a sign for a "traveler."  As the walls become closer, I step back.  Always keeping my eye on the door.  It must remain open for me.  I must remain free to come and go as I please.  I guess this is a part of that balancing thing I was talking about..  Some days I walk around looking for a story.  It seems most of us are on our way somewhere.  A destination, a place. 
    As I was writing this a friend walked up to me and said he was getting his bike fixed today and was taking off to another city, and would be returning around X-mas time....Another traveler in search of his destination.  I guess that is apart of his "balancing act."   I wished him luck, and to be safe.  Anyone can go to a travel agency, and sign up for a bus tour.  Every stop ridgely planned and timed.  But, Tramps,Travelers, Wayward people, whatever you wish to call us, doesn't matter.  We know the choices that we make, we are not victim's of circumstance.   The ability, the creativity it takes to live in a constant "state of without", is truly a form of art....We are all artists in one way or another.  Just as I believe that we are all poets in our own time.   You do not have to be having "hobo moments" in your life to be creative.  Open minded helps, being respectful is very important. 
    Ya know, the years I have spent in "trampdown mode", it never ceases to amaze me when the homeless where cruel and mean to each other.  We cry out for love and understanding, but most of the times we are the last to give it to each other!!  So I understand the public's view to us ...the homeless..
    No matter where I end up in my life, inside or outside, rich or poor, in good health or bad health.  I will always have a bit of "Tramp" in me.   The word poor has taken on a whole new meaning in my life.  It has nothing to do with money or anything material.  That cold, wet, morning when I wake up and have a simple cup of hot coffee to drink, and look around to see my fellow travelers, smiling, greeting me, shaking my hand, just showing a honest concern for me, It is here that I know I am a wealthy man.   Who would of thought...from a "Barstool Guru" to a "Happy hobo."...wow!...
    Only God could have done this....Nobody will tell me different!..........
So ends today's Trampdown log.....GOD BLESS!!  
        

Hobo Horseshoe Festival [Trampdown date-log]

     They came from miles around.  Cheap beer and free food.  And like a wounded animal that gives off the scent of vulnerability.  This scent hit every corner of the city. "somebody is giving something away."  Every hobo felt it, and every hobo knew it..  It's the Hobo Horseshoe Festival!!
     All I was hoping for  on this morning was, some  quiet time, coffee, and a cigarette. But it seemed I was in the right place at the right time.  The migration had begun with The first arrivals.  And I got to be witness.   At that moment, on that bench, was my first "Ah-Ha" moment for the day. BOING!!!!   Not only am I going to have coffee and a cigarette, but entertainment too!!!  When Hobo's gather it is a terrific event.  The sounds, the sights, and unfortunatly the smells.  I hear the first shopping cart at about 06:46, no wait,....two shopping carts!!!  One from north orange, and one from south orange.  They have not seen each other.......yet.  Rattle,rattle,shake,shake goes the one front wheel of both carts. As they are being pushed over cement .  You know what I mean.  Remember how when you go shopping and you just happen to have the one cart with the deformed front wheel..  Your walking down the Isle and it's making so much damn noise that other people are looking at you...lol...the only difference is that your cart in the store might weigh 130-150 pounds. These each weigh over 300 pounds....The carts, that is,.... not the person.  just wanted to clear that up.... Because there have been times in certain stores when I have been up late and went to this certain store and some of the people must of weighed at least 300 plus...But here, it's the carts.
     You know that you might have 'over shopped" a little when each of your 5 children are pushing a "grocery cart" at 3 in the morning..  that should be a Ah-Ha moment for you if you are ever in this situation.
I'm wondering if any of these guys coming even know how to play horseshoes.  Some of the old timers probably do, but we have some really young guys out here.  Last time one of the 'contestents" stole most of the horse-shoes, so he could turn them in to the recycling point.. It's really hell trying to play shoes with only 2 shoes for 24 guys, games take forever!!
    Well, here they come, so I better hide my cigarettes, and enjoy the show.  If you have never witnessed a event like this, it is wonderful for the ffamily and kids....Watching us tramps just trying to form a line is usually the main event.  Just don't get envolved with arguments that have to deal with common sense or whose shopping cart is prettier, trust me, it's a no win battle.... The Walmart here in Orlando has these shopping carts that if you go past the yellow line, the front wheel will freeze up.  You have probably seen them, well they had to discontinue the program because after the first day, they had over 35 homeless people who were walking around the parking lots pushing loaded carts, afraid to go over the yellow line.  It was quite commical.  Marathon Man, and myself sat up under some trees and watched from a distance as this event unfolded.  Look, you can be homeless and misrable, or you can take situations like this and use it for entertainment.....I choose entertainment....Well,  "The Hobo horseshoe festival", sould be starting soon, and I kind of want to be their for the first event, I m sure there will be more to write about before this day is done.......

TIN and TINNETTE

This is the story of a man and a women.  We will call the man Tin and the women is named Tinnette.  It's a  love story.  It's a long distance love story, but whether it is long distance or a short distance, love is the centerpiece of the tale of TIN and Tinnette.  Tin was a homeless man, living on the streets of a southern city, and Tinette was a decent, hard working women living in South American city.  Through the magic of the Internet, and the loneliness of Facebook, Tin and Tinnette met.....It was love at first "key stroke"...one could say. There are those who say, Internet relationships are not real, or foolish, well let them say such things.  For these are the same people who have no relationships themselves.  Even when a person might be sitting right next to them, so always consider the source of such negative opinions.
     To fall in love with a persons words, their thoughts,is much more intimate than their touch.  Just think of the bonus of love making, when their words have already brought you  A  happiness and joy.
[more to come].....

USED TIRE WORLD

• Inspiration comes in many forms.  God blessed me with inspiration one day as I was on my way to work.. Sitting at a stop light early one morning I just happened to glance over to my right and saw this "Used Tire World" sign.  And like a bullet to my head, I began to smile and in a nano second I thought , "Ain't that the truth!"  "Used Tire world ".....wow...... That was exactly how I felt for so long, like a old used tire....because physically, mentally, and spiritually I was so empty.  ....Sort of Flat...it was actually a spiritual moment, for God was getting my attention, God was inspiring me.  I was being kept in spirit of the moment.  I can remember through the years and pick out moments of clarity, but I always attributed those with either too much coffee, or one of the many substances I might have be using at the time....lol...
•  For some, addiction is no laughing matter, and making light of it upsets them, well.....I am not one of those....I have cried all the tears I can, and Lord knows I've produced enough misery for not only myself ,but to those who knew and loved me.  That is why I am smiling like a idiot at the benign sign with the huge red letters.."USED TIRE WORLD."   Inspiration has me smiling and it was at this same moment I wondered where did that thought come from?.. To be inspired is to be in spirit.  It started me asking myself, where is the source of that type of thinking?....How does it arrive?..Why does it arrive?  But most of all, What do I do with it?...
• It has taken me many years, good and bad situations to see the "truth" about the first question.  In the past, "I" would always take credit...."I" was the center of the universe, and "I" was in control....(let me say right now, this attitude, kind of didn't work out)....  At this stage in my life I am probably only in control of my bladder, and that is also starting to go...lol.... 
• God provides my inspiration.  It is that simple. Every good answer, every good option, everything that is good and every good choice I make is me, moving toward God......"USED TIRE WORLD"...all this came to me from these three small words. 
• If inspiration can come to me from a sign, I can only imagine the wonderful possibilities and the endless joy that a life with God first will bring me.....I think is is time to change the tires on my "spiritual ride."   God bless.....     TRAMPDOWN LOG..28 MAY,2012

The Table

    I sat back in my chair and looked at the three men who sat around the table.  I can remember when we were just little boys, and our only real worries in life was if our school homework was done, or if we would win our next baseball game.  Now here we were 40 years later, grown men.  Even though I haven't seen them in so long, my love and affection for them has grown.  It took this gathering for me to realize that.  I am overwhelmed with emotion as I listen and look at them, but I keep it to myself.
     The friends, and bonds we make between the ages of 10-15 years of age are special.  And sadly never to be seen or felt again.  I remember how that thought would make me sad, even melancholy.....Now hearing their voices, seeing their faces, but most of all hearing them laugh.  I never realized it a the time, but our childhood friends supply us with many wonderful things.  Companionship, support, a sense of belonging and most of all, our sense of identity, and who we are.  It's a big part of who we eventually come to be in life.
      When age hits me,as it will do with us all, and decides to steal my memories, I hope and pray these are the ones that will remain with me until the last of my life.  The smiling faces of my friends.  I do not want this time to end.  I want this day to go on forever.....Mike

The Book Bag Man; Trampdown log

    He lives under a bridge like a troll, The Book Bag man.  Everywhere he goes, he [as you guessed it],carries a bag with books in it.  He is constantly reading.  I pass him at least 2-3 times a day. Doesn't speak much.  Don't blame him, sometimes it is so much more peaceful when you can rely on no one for conversation.  It is a gift to be able to be alone with ones self and be comfortable.  You do not necessarily have to be "anti-social", but just being alone is a okay spot...reading can produce that.  Reading and writing, it teaches me a new window of love that I never understood existed.
    To be intimate with not only one's self, but with the characters I create and the "real life" characters that I come in contact with every day.  Being kind, I guess.  Kinder to myself and to others...I/we have so much true power as we live.  So small at first, but comes the day we 'wake-up" a little faster than normal and our eyes have changed.  How many times have we been in a place very familiar to us, and that one time we just seem to notice something good about it. It feels good. Like a puzzle being put together. It just all seems to fit into place....."yeah, it Fits". Try to remember the last time you watched a sunset and that feeling it can pull out of you.  The feeling of "it all fits"....
      That was my first reaction to The Book Bag man...he "fit".  He fit under his bridge, he fit sitting where he does and surrounded by his bags,  it all simply fit.  I speak with him sometimes, but all I can ever get out of him is "yes, yes, yes".  While he nods his head, and for all I know he could be looking at me saying "yes", and in his mind he has me visioned standing there wearing a bunny outfit with a banana shoved up my ass!..Who knows what others are really thinking?..Maybe to him, picturing me like that , it also fits!..lol..Have a good day.......Ale!!    how are you Tinette?

Faces in The Crowd..[trampdown-log]

     All the faces , in all the crowds.  As the years pass, and time moves us forward.  Where have they all gone?  This last year, out here on the road, so many have come and gone like rain on a summer afternoon.  Some I remember with a smile, and then there are those that I remember with a distant stare. Faces are filled with stories and life.  Some of us wear our life and others live one.   I have been on both sides of that story.  For in someones story, I have also became just another face in the crowd.  The last year and a half living on the streets of Orlando has been in the very least, a real struggle with my inner self and the struggles of others.   It never bothered me to meet new faces, it was just when the faces began to talk and speak.  That's when [after the road had worn me down], that I would breath a heavy sigh, and my mind would drift away.
     I can never understand why so many people find it necessary to fill quiet space with needless conversation?..It's like...They always have to explain every situation or moment with a reason.....It does not!!....There are so many times I do not even know how to reply or if I even should.  A ll of us are our own individual story.  No doubt about it.  That is a fact.  But not every story needs to be told, and if it is....Please, just tell it once!!.. [thank God for mans ability to daydream].  When I see crowds of people.  I see stories.  Faces are a very good indication of the stories that reside within us.  Now, the quality of the story pretty much depends on the teller of the story.  If the face is uncreative, then the story will more than likely be a flat, boring, repetitive string of events...I'm guilty of it.  Who is not?  A good sign of a boring story is when the listener starts picking their nose or drops their pants and relives some bodily fluid...lol....
     That is a really good sign the the listener is not enjoying your story.  [actually had that happen].  Some "yarns", are like watching a very bad movie or sit-com.  You know it's bad when you actually become embarrassed for the actors.  Ever watch one of those?...If not, just watch some of Steven Segal movies...wow, I think they come with directions on his movies, so you understand why  a Ice pick is attached to the CD set, so you can at anytime start stabbing yourself in the eyes and get it over quick...[sorry Segal fans]....Just watch mainstream TV for a while.  It is full of uncreative garbage and "just another face in the crowd shows.  One will disappear and another will be right behind it.
     QUOTE: What is now new, was once old,  just made visible.....THOREAU...[paraphrased].......
    Remember when we were all teenagers and all the cool things we discovered.  Actually thinking we deserved some kind of patent on a situation or phrase we thought that we invented..Youth is a wonderful, funny road.  Being young is sort of like being another "face in the crowd".  One of the millions, in the millions of crowds.  I must of drove my parents crazy with my needless chatter, explaining everything that they already knew.  Under normal circumstances I would have more patience with others, but this last 19 months of being homeless there is nothing normal about this area of life....Not one day is normal, not one!...My life, your life, our lives, for we are just "faces in the crowd".
    So, the next time you are in a crowd, take the time to scan the faces of our fellow humans.  I might be in there some where, I'll be easy to see, I'll be picking my nose!!!   lol   have a great day..