Tuesday, September 03, 2013

Hobo Handbook: Memoirs of a Homeless Poet in New York (Excerpt #13)





THE HOBO HANDBOOK: MEMOIRS OF A HOMELESS POET IN NEW YORK
 By Daniel Canada c.2010
 
 
 
STASHABLE LOCATIONS (Continued)

 
You don’t want to be caught carrying all that stuff around town, do you? I didn’t think so. The tricky part is finding an actual spot that’s safe enough to squirrel away your get-up without the inconvenience of it being discovered. Discovery means lost, friends. And when you lose your belongings out here, it’s gone forever, and you're in a real tight spot. I was lucky, for a while, to have discovered a great spot in a location I and my companion, Hobobob, referred to as, “Up the old Lady’s Ass.”


What?

Look. I'm not trying to be offensive here. So, before you jump to conclusions, and simply write me off and what have you, I'd like for you to continue to follow along with my some-what twisted, homeless, logic, and eventually it's all going to make sense.

Getting back to my stashable secret spot.

Where can such a place with a name like this possibly be? Well, it was right behind the lady statue on the left-hand side of the famous New York Public Library, situated right on Forty-Second Street and Fifth Avenue. Believe me, it's the God's honest truth. Sometimes the best place to hide a thing is in plain sight. Who would've suspected? Matter of fact, that location served me well for many months, until one day the public library custodians decided to do spring-cleaning and…well…you know the rest.

The lost to me was considerable. This underscores the reason why it is imperative that you find a hiding spot to squirrel away your belongings that will not be discovered until the end of the next century. Eventually, all stashable locations are discovered.

Wasn’t it the Buddha who said the only thing permanent in the universe was change?

Well, there you have it.

However, if you chose wisely, you can have the blessed, temporary peace of mind that your valuables are tucked away in a well-secreted location, safe from the paws of any would-be-homeless moochers.

Or custodians.

Now that we've got that out of the way, I'd like to elucidate upon the multitudinous purposes of an article-no pun intended-that we use and discard on any given day, without taking into consideration some of the other uses from which a homeless person can gain from it.

I'm referring to your average, daily, newspaper.

As we shall see, this item has more functions than merely providing you with the updated scores of your favorite baseball team.

 

THE POWER OF THE PRESS

 
I’ve touched briefly on how I used newspapers to line my clothing, during less than favorable wintry nights, and how this has saved my hide more than a night or two. In point of fact, this wasn’t my brainchild but was actually thought of and put to use by the late, great, American Psychic, Edgar Cayce, during the many privations he had to endure while pursuing his chosen path as the “Sleeping Prophet.”

I read about it in a book and borrowed the idea. So, there’s no royalties on newspaper usage for me, here.
 
(To be continued...)

 

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