Hobo Handbook: Memoirs of a Homeless Poet in New York (Excerpt #26)

THE HOBO HANDBOOK: MEMOIRS OF A HOMELESS POET IN NEW YORK

 By Daniel Canada c.2010

 CHAPTER THREE

PERSONALITIES OF THE HOMELESS (Continued)

FRANK AND BEANS is an example of a man who managed to pull himself up by his own bootstraps. The reason I call him "Frank and Beans" is because his name is Frank. That's all. I wish I could provide you with some more clever reason, or profound history associated with his name, but I can’t. So, there it is. 

Anyway, when I first met "Frank and Beans" he was an ex-convict, who found himself homeless. But "Frank and Beans" was determined to make something out of his life. He enrolled into a technical school after getting public assistance, studied computer networking, and actually graduated. He rolled his sleeves up, and went out searching for and landed a decent job in a respectable company. He even got himself a modest apartment, for he and his wife, through section 8.

 

What "Frank and Beans" demonstrates, is that anyone can change their circumstance, regardless of what their life is like, if they put forth their best effort. 

Good luck "Frank and Beans." You’re a true inspiration and I salute you!

 

NINJA is a perfect example of a person who's lost all sense of corporeality. This kind of rodeo clown judges the world by his own selfish set of rules, and attempts to punish the world with the same. "Ninja" is the kind of homeless person that is so full of self-vituperation that he manages to shoot himself in the foot, to spite his sneakers. "Ninja” gets thrown out of almost every soup kitchen he shows up to. Now, this is not a prudent thing, when you consider that one needs to have access to as many soup kitchens as possible, so one doesn't starve to death.

 

But No!

"Ninja" insists on stirring a tempest in a teapot at every soup kitchen and church his dark shadow falls upon. So, in response to this kind of habitual behavior, the homeless have formed cliques to oust him from their eating establishments. Some have even gone as far as making plans to catch him outside unawares, and throw him a good beating. You see where all this is going, don't you? As a result, I see "Ninja" less and less each week. Maybe it's for the better, for us all. Now, the rest of the homeless and “Skeksies” can eat in relative peace, without having to result to clobbering somebody on an empty stomach. 

 

To avoid falling into the trap of becoming a "Ninja," try to be as amicable as possible, with the fellow homeless people you're going to share a meal table. As the saying goes, “You can catch more bees with honey.” 

"Ninja,” may the road rise to meet you.

 

When you fall on your face.

(To be continued...)

 

Hobo Handbook: Memoirs of a Homeless Poet in New York (Excerpt #25)

THE HOBO HANDBOOK: MEMOIRS OF A HOMELESS POET IN NEW YORK

   

By Daniel Canada c.2010

CHAPTER THREE

PERSONALITIES OF THE HOMELESS

“Never hold discussions with the monkey when the organ grinder is in the room.”

-Sir Winston Churchill

British politician (1874 - 1965)

　

　

A personality is a behavior that makes up who and what we are. Arrogant people get one label, and humble people get another. This is a truism in life as in the homeless world, as well. I’ve seen pretty much of it all, from the certifiable nut, the outlandish freak, to the downright hapless fool. There exists the whole gamut of individuals out here.

It’s too easy for you to become like one of them, or a melding of two or three of these motley characters, if you don’t keep your eyes on the road and your hands upon the wheel, trooper. Here, following, is a category of the people that I have encountered. Some of them you might find hilarious, some you might view to be downright tragic. It definitely served as a warning to me to keep a constant vigil on myself, so I wouldn’t emulate any one of these characters. If you find yourself homeless, you ought to do the same. Because if you don’t snap out of it right quick, you might find yourself traveling down that long, slippery, slide into madness, precious.

SCURVY This kind of nincompoop is living in two diametrically opposed worlds; the world of a working-class citizen and the absurd world of the homeless. Taken from an actual homeless man, "Scurvy" earned his name because of the way he speaks, and the crazy, drunken antics he performs in public while under the influence of alcohol.

You’ll find “Scurvy” singing out loud, and cavorting himself around as a craze, out of control, sailor, ranting and raving in front of the rush-hour crowd at Penn Station. This type of homeless person is an attention seeker, and will go to any lengths to get it. Sometimes he will act up just for someone to simply look his way and to recognize that he exists. Being thrust out of the wheel of life, and into the streets can offer a great challenge to one's self-esteem and mental tenacity. 

 

The remedy for this kind of melancholy drift into the abyss of insanity is to find a "friend," anyone you can talk to, to bounce yourself and your ideas off. Cavorting with a companion can aide in keeping one’s mental veracity sharp, and help in keeping you grounded in reality. This is a sure way to verify that you don’t go over the deep end, and wind up like "Scurvy."

(To be continued...)

Hobo Handbook: Memoirs of a Homeless Poet in New York (Excerpt #24)

THE HOBO HANDBOOK: MEMOIRS OF A HOMELESS POET IN NEW YORK

By Daniel Canada c.2010 

THE BEGGARS (Continued)

Now, after I've finished lambasting the homeless sham artist, I am burdened at last with the overwhelming need to vent a personal vituperation against a small group of the homeless that I've ran into along my travails...I meant travels. These guys and gals are not as insidious as the ones I've taken pain to "out," as the saying goes, to expose for the frauds they are. This next group is simply, how does one say? An eclectic lot among the undomiciled.

  

These are the homeless vegetarians.

HOMELESS VEGETARIANS

Yes. I had to go there. But I'll make it brief and as painless as possible. The reason I had to touch on this topic is that I was astonished to find such a thing actually existed out here.

Here's the scenario. I'm in a church, on a soup line. Everyone steps up to get a hot plate of whatever they're serving. The line suddenly comes to an abrupt halt.  Some homeless person is fussing with one of the volunteer servers over the contents of his plate.

“I said I don't eat meat. I'm a vegetarian!” he complains, as if there was some hidden conspiracy to sneak meat onto his plate.

“Well then, you're going to have to step aside, so we can prepare a special vegetarian plate for you.”

The homeless vegetarian finally steps aside to allow the rest of the waiting, hungry folks to move forward on the line. “And make sure they don't mix any scraps of meat into my food. You know I can't eat any meat!” he sternly warns the patient volunteer server, while waiting on the side of the line.

The server takes a good look at him. “You know all we have is some white rice and string beans. But I can give you an extra helping of that, if you want.”

The homeless vegetarian frowns, as if he's being giving the short stick out of a draw on Gilligan's Island.

What?

Wait a minute! Something's out of place with this entire business here!

This is the streets, and you're in a bloody-excuse the French-church soup kitchen.  Special orders are for five-star restaurants, like Tavern on the Green, buddy.  When you're out here, you have to eat what you're given.

Besides, what's up with the lack of gratitude?

Being on a vegetarian diet is difficult for working-class people to afford. For a homeless person to expect to be served steamy dishes of vegetable delight everyday on a church soup line is all together unreasonable.

The local Hare Krishna temple serves vegetarian diners on Wednesday nights, sunshine.

So be there.

Homeless vegetarians, on your mark...Get set...Go!

(To be continued...)