procrastination

This year I'm suffering from dp syndrome.
That's derelict procrastination in sending out Christmas cards.
There's a lot on my mind.
I have three friends in jail and that reminds me too much of what happened to me.
Last Saturday I saw one of the jailers who treated me with respect and I informed him that the charges were dismissed and expunged.
Alas, a guy who offered me a place to stay is in jail.
Another friend who had an FTA -- failure to appear is incarcerated.
I need to get off my duff and send out Christmas cards.
Thanks for reading this blog.
I just wish someone would comment.
Happy Holidays!!

magic

One of my favorite Christmas memories occurred when I worked in the Wal-Mart Christmas shop in Bentonville.
A cute little girl approached me and said, "Santa, what are you doing here?"
I quickly replied, "I have to make money to buy all of the little children gifts. What do you want for Christmas, honey?"
She marvelously retorted, "No, you don't. You can just do magic!"
Somewhat taken aback and happily experiencing a magical Christmas moment, I responded, "Well, I have to buy gifts for Mrs. Claus."
Her mother nodded her head in agreement and the precious little sweetheart, meekly said, "Oh."
Don't we all remember when we too believed in Santa and thought he could magically bring us something nice, if we had behaved.
The true magic of Christmas is that God endowed the Virgin Mary with a son Jesus.
Today the Wiggins Methodist minister brought all of us joy when he read in Luke about John (the Baptist), Jesus' cousin, leaping for joy in his mother Elizabeth's womb when he learned of Jesus' existence.
Then, Rev. Gary Lunsford, related a story about his leap for joy when his son Quentin scored the game-winning touchdown in a driving rainstorm 15 years ago for Greenland against arch-rival Mountainburg.
Gary said he leaped as high as he ever has in his life. Now picture a 350-pound man leaping for joy and then splattering everyone within a 10-foot diameter, including a man with a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
Then he instructed all of us to close our eyes and envision leaping for joy.
Indeed, the joys of Christmas cement memories in our mindsets forever.
What was the greatest gift you received at Christmas.
Forget the material gifts, like the little red wagon I received as a little boy.
The greatest gift transpired in Bethlehem over 2,000 years ago.
We should all remember the true meaning of Christmas. The birth of Jesus Christ.
Jesus is the reason for the season.
Merry CHRISTmas!
May the peace and love of Jesus bless us all every day.
We should all arise every morning and let Christ be born in us and let his spirit of giving and loving and forgiving be uppermost in our decision-making.
Shalom.

blessings

The blessings of Christmas were overwhelming this week.
Friends gave me some money during a luncheon engagement Wednesday.
That was well appreciated.
Then, unbelievably someone came up to me at the Razorbacks game Wed. night and asked me if I had written an article in the newspaper. I told him I had a letter to the editor published and he said "I'm proud of you." and handed me $40.
So, Thursday and Friday nights I stayed hibernated in the Motel Six.
I had vowed not to spend my money on motel rooms this year, but since the money was donated I splurged.
And I started walking to the library.
A friend Danny Farmer saw me walking and gave me a ride to the library.
He told me to give him a call if I needed a warm place to sleep.
He said he wouldn't do it for anyone else but me.
So, I'm blessed.
Another friend is going to take me out to eat prior to the Razorback game today.
God Bless everyone during the Yuletide season.
I just wish I could reciprocate.
Happy Holidays!

Christ

I experienced an epiphany yesterday.
My Christ(mas) wish for everyone: Compassion in our Hearts for Jesus.
Reason and Intellect from God.
Soul and Truth from the Holy Spirit.
We all can be born in Christ every day and that's not just a one day celebration of his birth but an every day reawakening to his love and spirit in our lives.
Jesus is the reason for the season.
Or, as Willie Nelson quipped, "Jesus didn't celebrate Santa Claus' birthday."
Too many Americans get too swept up in the me, me, me greed syndrome and forget the true significance of Christmas.
It's a pagan holiday to too many.
So, as we reflect on what we have to be thankful for, we should all be thankful we met each other and helped each other survive a very bizarre year filled with downsizing and job losses and a very poor economy.
I'm thankful for the friends who helped me out and the loving spirit of Christ embodied in their spiritual compassion for me and my plight.
Every morning when I awaken, no matter whether the temperature is 9 degrees or 59 degrees, I praise God for my Coleman sleeping bag which leaves me comfy. I have a warm hearted feeling for those who helped me out.
I enjoy my privacy now and hope the blue light special doesn't deter me from sleeping and keeping a peaceful attitude toward my fellow man.
As Tiny Tim said, "God Bless You all!"

churchesmustserve

This morning I awoke at 5:15 a.m. and originally planned to go to Burger King and spend my last 55 cents on a cup of coffee.
Then, an inner voice said, "Walk to the Central United Methodist Church on Dickson Street for Bible study."
After an hour and 15 minutes of briskly walking I wondered if it would really be worth it.
Indeed, it was.
The Wiggins Methodist Minister Gary Lunsford mentioned that when Seven Hills Homeless Shelter shut down on Saturdays his church was asked if they could serve meals every Saturday.
Gary said that one-third of his congregation objected and didn't want those people in their church.
A memory triggered in my brain.
The first time I reentered the sanctuary at Wiggins where my father pastored from 1973-76, I saw an article I had written about the dedication of the church when it was debt free. It was posted in a frame.
The district superintendent preached about how fortunate the members of the church were to have no more debts on their hallowed sanctuary.
But then he said, "But how many people are here who are on welfare?"
That struck me in an eerie way.
I am drawing food stamps. I'm on a form of welfare. And, here I am attending their church.
I'm sleeping in a tent.
On Sunday after the services, a long-standing member of the church invited me to a pot luck dinner.
I politely disdained and said I wanted to be by myself. I didn't want to embarrass anyone by mentioning the irony involved. I was fulfilling the prophetic message that district superintendent queried the congregation about 35 years ago.
It's still haunting me.
Why am I homeless?
Why did I return to Wiggins?
Am I more acceptable because my father used to be the minister?
Only God knows.

bonding

Sometimes the best friend a homeless person has is another homeless individual.
Indeed, bonding occurs when one faces adversity.
Who do you turn to?
Who do you trust?
Recently a friend aided me in finding a new spot to dwell.
He showed me via a map where his tent was encamped and invited me to move in.
That's what I did.
That was silent bonding between two homeless guys who needed someplace where no one else could intercede, i.e. the police.
Likewise, a friend found shelter from the adverse weather last week when two of his homeless buddies offered him a place to stay.
Thus, bonding occurs and when some adverse circumstance occurs or when some surprise development in improving one's lifestyle advantageously happens destiny avails one to aid one's fellow homeless friend.
Friends bond together in unique ways.
Homeless people don't trust many others except themselves.
Been there. Done that.
That's the attitude and response one finds amongst the have-nots in this sub-culture of homeless.
So, when you're down but not out, sometimes your best friend is another one of the homeless.

undercover

Thanks to Ryan Rusch, Brian Smith, Aaron Elleman and Rob Apple for aiding and abetting me in conquering Mother Nature's recent cold snap.
Indeed I've crackled and snapped a couple of times but huddling up covered by my Coleman sleeping bag makes a difference between freezing and frozen.
This morning I just slept in a little longer than usual because I was so warm.
I finally finagled and got my contrary zipper to cooperate and keep me a little warmer than the past few nights when I didn't feel like working with the stuck zipper.
Last night I was bound and determined to zip it up tighter.
The main difficulty is extricating oneself from the blanket when you wake up.
You sometimes just don't want to go outside while it's colder than a coal digger's derriere.
I'm thankful every night and every morning for the Coleman sleeping bag donated by Rusch, Smith, Elleman and Apple. Sounds like a law firm doesn't it?
Well, they're at the top of my list for friends aiding friends.
Plus, it saves me money. Last year I would've spent money on a motel room.

zippers

The last time I had difficulty with a zipper the owner of Old Town Cleaners in Bentonville provided me with a safety pin to avoid exposure of my BVDs.
Last night I experienced a stuck zipper and experienced exposure to the frigid weather.
So I improvised and woke up this morning with my Coleman sleeping bag completely covering me.
I remember the rock group Three Dog Night which was named for an Eskimo tradition.
The coldest night of the year was a three dog night.
I don't plan on adopting any dogs, raccoons or skunks to provide me with a warmer environment.
I just plan on keeping warm vis a vis blankets, thermals and two pairs of socks.
Shivering is not my favorite lifestyle but that's the life of an outdoorsman.
I just wish I'd advanced past Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts.

sleeping

Some might wonder how a homeless person endures the winter weather conditions.
Actually once you're sound asleep and have a very warm sleeping bag it's not as frigid as it sounds.
On the flip side it's uncomfortable when one has to commune with Mother Nature, so to speak.
The main worry is critters but now that it's winter weather the bugs are gone.
The main scenario is to find a hidden spot so human critters won't interfere. Many have stuff stolen whenever too many people discover your whereabouts.
But I've learned not to waste my money on a motel room like I used to do.
It's better to just rough it and endure and save your money for another day.
Also, it helps to have friends who don't mind you sleeping at their pad.
My friends in Bentonville told me this week they want me to pay them $25 a week or $100 a month. I guess I'll have to pay them $50 every time I get money directly deposited.
I knew sooner or later the free room and board would come crashing down on me.
They are also avidly awaiting when my food stamps kick in again.
I just hope they oblige and pay me what they're worth.
In Bentonville there are no free lunches like in Fayetteville.

moving

When I started camping out with a friend on Markham Hill I never envisioned being evicted by the police.
I'm paranoid about the police and their overzealous pig-headed authoritative maneuvers.
They like to show off their macho ways sometimes and bully innocent people around.
Rather than succumb to their eviction notice, I found the road less traveled and moved.
Thanks to Mike and Ryan Rusch I relocated to another isolated spot.
I just am tired of the mental fatigue and worries associated with police eviction convictions.
So, some might say I'm a coward and afraid of dealing with the police.
But I did not appreciate being awakened at 1:30 a.m. and told I was trespassing on private property.
I don't know who owns the land I'm slumbering on right now, but I'm going to be stealthy and sneak in late at night and early in the morning skulk out.
I left my tent standing at Duane's camp site, so the door is open for moving back if the police don't oust my friend from his comfort zone.
It was humorous when my tent was being disassembled when Duane said, "I'm going to miss this tent because of the skunks."
To paraphrase Bob Dylan, "Everyone must get skunked!"
Not sprayed!
Just someday when you least expect it wake up and find a skunk roaming around in your bedroom.
What would you do?

happiness is letting henry ho being your captain of your thanksgiving day.
I don't know how I would've survived without Henry. He doesn't want any credit but he's the greatest.
When we ate at Wiggins the television crew came in and the homeless scattered. Achie said why don't they take pictures of when the police tear down our tents.
Indeed. Let us be.

Heartsafire

During the holidays we join with friends and thank God for all the blessings we've received during the past year.
The year began with me incarcerated for something I didn't do.
I pondered why I was being tested.
When I was released after 107 days I suffered some more.
Finally I reevaluated my goals in life and finished my series of articles on homelessness which were published for a week in May.
Then, I still wondered what's next?
The next turning point in my life occurred when I attended the Homelessness Awareness rally at the UofA.
A man sat down beside me and gushed with praise for my articles. Unbeknownst to me, he was a blessing from God.
We talked that night about how Fayetteville's churches were very supportive of the homelessness and feeds every day of the week.
In contrast there's no such support group in Benton County.
I fell asleep underneath a tree without a blanket or a tent.
The next morning another man approached me and casually said, "I want to help. I just don't know how."
I remarked that there was no place to go for breakfast on Saturdays because Seven Hills shut down on Saturdays.
He kindly asked me if I cared to join him for breakfast.
I know God's hand was involved in that conversation.
I've been blessed ever since.
Nate Allen, who offered me my first job at the Springdale News, intervened again when he engineered an alliance with Norm DeBriyn, who proffered a helping hand at Ruby Tuesday's.
Norm gave a highly favorable recommendation to Curt Yates who oversees the ushers at Arkansas sporting events.
Then, Norm saw me at the Arkansas-Auburn football game and praised Curt for hiring me and helpfully asked him if I was going to be ushering at basketball games.
Eventually I acquired Lady Razorback basketball games, too.
So, what do I have to be thankful for?
Nate Allen, Norm DeBriyn, Mike Rusch and his brother Ryan, Brian Smith of the Campbell Soup Co., Aaron Elleman of Saatchi and Saatchi, Rob Apple of Disney, and another marketing whiz who desires anonymity.
All these good fellows made my life more tolerable and easier to adapt to life's vicissitudes.
They reestablished broken links to a support network which have made my life much more serene.
I still struggle with life's challenges but keep the faith that sooner or later I'll understand why I'm still homeless.
I firmly God is using my writing talents to enlighten.
Last, but probably the greatest influence on my renaissance from sleeping in the back seat of a car to a tent, is Kent Marts, editor extraordinaire.
Originally I went to him seeking an article I'd written about Frank Broyles to try and break back into the journalistic circle.
Kent quipped, "David, why don't you write about homelessness."
That adventure led me through a myriad of experiences including: sleeping in the woods during the remnants of Hurricane Ike, trekking and slip sliding and almost drowning in a gully washer, enduring Pepe LePew's interloping in my tent, and now facing eviction from a camp site.
So, what's it all about?
I don't have any of the answers, but I'm still striving to understand the deep mysteries of life.
With God on my side and with the altruistic Christian aid of friends I will persevere and continue to document the vicissitudes associated with sleeping in a tent.
Too bad the police don't read this and try and understand how it feels to be awakened at 1:30 a.m. and accused of trespassing.
In conclusion, Happy Thanksgiving to all of my friends and relatives who've conversed via e-mail and Facebook.
Hopefully by Christmas it will be better to give than receive.

suffering

I often wonder why God is making me suffer.
I found inspiration in MacArthur Bible Companion. I'm not plagiarizing. I'm quoting.
1. There are matters going on in heaven with God that believers know nothing about; yet, they dramatically affect their lives.
2. Even the best effort at explaining the issues of life can be useless.
3. God's people do suffer. Bad things happen all the time to good people, so one cannot judge a person's spirituality by his painful circumstances or successes.
4. Even though God seems far away, perserverance in faith is a most noble virtue since God is good and one can safely leave his life in His hands.
5. The believer in the midst of suffering should not abandon God, but draw near to Him, so out of the fellowship can come the comfort -- even without the explanation.
6. Suffering may be intense, but it will ultimately end for the righteous and God will bless abundantly.
I find solace and contemplative wisdom here.
I often wondered why I was homeless and suffering.
I chose to believe that God had a divine purpose in my life. To enlighten those who cared to listen and discern about homelessness.
No one can understand how it feels until one has lived the life of a homeless individual.
No one can understand until one has had a skunk invade one's tent.
No one can understand until one has had to spend time in jail for being homeless.
No one can understand until one has been evicted from one's camp site.
You've just gotta believe that God is testing you to see if you will come back to him and ask for guidance and perseverance.
Good things happen once you persevere and keep the faith.
Thank you God for your infinite wisdom and thanks for guiding me to these elements of the great theme of Job.

thanksgiving

Thanks to one and all for giving me assistance during some tumultous times.
I can't enumerate all of the generosity but my heart says thanks.
I get frustrated at my plight but someone always seems to rally support.
I've been invited to a friend's house for Thanksgiving dinner.
Hopefully by then I will have found a new place to dwell. I'm tired of the Heartbreak Hotel.
I plan on writing a letter to the editor of the NWA Times this week in regards to the double standards imposed on homeless individuals.
The Mayor Lioneld Jordan told me the reason police uproot tents is due to the land owner's protestations.
The police harassed us at 1:30 a.m. two and a half weeks ago and said we were infringing, trespassing on private property and didn't have permission to be there.
Lo and behold, Officer Bill Phelan admitted the land owner didn't have a grievance about our camping out on her property.
So, where's the beef?
The police are over zealous sometimes.
Let's trade places with them sometime and see who has a more caring heart. Me or them.
Nevertheless, Happy Thanksgiving!
Hope the holidays will be celebratory and not times for grieving over lost opportunities.
We're all in this together. I try and do my part to help out the homeless.
We have enough problems as it is. We don't need unmerciful harassment and threats.

flabbergasted

Gadzooks!
Moving can be a tremendous hassle when you're trying to juggle schedules during Thanksgiving week.
I'm ushering basketball games Tuesday night, Friday night and Sunday afternoon.
That's a piece of cake.
But having to reconfigure a campsite because of someone else's malfeasance becomes a very depressing scenario.
Yes, I'm a happy camper with my campmates.
No, I'm not a happy camper with the Fayetteville police who have falsely accused us of something we have no clue about.
Whenever a minister castigates you at a church meal that proves to be a very embarrassing situation.
A lady used her cell phone and called 911 over someone slapping her.
Then, the police awaken us at 1:30 a.m. and harrass us for something we didn't do.
We are told we are trespassing on private property and don't have permission to be there.
Then, we are given an eviction notice.
Then, we are told by an e-mail that the land owner doesn't have qualms about us being on their property.
Then, we are told to vacate again.
When will the nightmare end?
What did innocent people do to deserve this type of eviction?
I'm flabbergasted and aghast at the way I'm being treated.
I'm supposed to have the holiday spirit of thanksgiving.
I'm thankful for friends who care and share.
But I'm not thankful for the police's attitude towards the homeless who have enough problems as it is just trying to survive.
Just when I think I've turned the corner with a job, the police intervene in my life again at the most inopportune time.
I'm innocent until proven guilty.
Wrong.
Guilty until you move away.
Get out of your homelessness and don't come back again.
Bah, humbug!!

Thanksgiving

Happy Turkey Day!
Gobble, gobble, gobble.
Indeed next week folks in Fayetteville will have the opportunity to gobble all week long.
On Tuesday the Central United Methodist Church is serving a Thanksgiving meal at 11:30 a.m.
On Wednesday St. Paul's Episcopal Church is serving turkey and dressing and all of the trimmings.
On Thursday Wiggins Methodist Church is serving breakfast and the Salvation Army is serving Thanksgiving Dinner.
On Friday Seven Hills Homeless Center is serving Thanksgiving dinner.
So we all have much to be thankful for!
I have lots of people I need to thank for giving me shelter from the storms of homelessness, but most of them desire anonymity.
So I'll just thank them when I send out Christmas cards.
I'm still disconcerted about being evicted on Nov. 29.
I don't know exactly the scenario but I'll just go with the flow or flow with the go, whatever.
Nevertheless, Happy Thanksgiving Day to one and all.
I couldn't have survived the vicissitudes of 2009 without loving and caring and sharing friends and accomplices.
Merry Christmas, Happy New Year. Yada, yada, yada.

cops

Why do police harass homeless individuals?
Why can't law-abiding citizens camp out in Fayetteville?
If property owners permit campers, why do the police harass us?
Ours is to ask why.
Does the mayor of Fayetteville really care? Or was it a part of his platform to roust out the homeless?
Sometimes we all must bow down on our knees and seek forgiveness.
Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
OK. I forgive the skunk Pepe LePew for trespassing in my tent.
But I'm really not criminally trespassing because the land owner said she had no problems with us camping on Markham Hill.
I'm very frustrated by the police harassment we're receiving.
I had hoped to be a bell ringer for the Salvation Army and accumulate enough money to afford housing.
But at the orientation meeting they said we must abide by the assignment they give us. If we can't then we don't need to continue to apply.
I have to be at Bud Walton Arena at 4 p.m. Friday and that's the first day bell ringers will be at their kettle stations.
So, bye, bye to the bell ringing dream.
Bah, humbug.

cobblestoners

God bless Ryan Rusch, Brian Smith, Aaron Elleman and Rob Apple.
They're some of God's chosen people whose helping hands helped us clean up our camp site and reconstruct it thanks to their generosity.
What a great weekend!
Rotnei Clark wowed the Razorbacks with 51 points and an SEC record 13 trifectas.
Ryan Mallett and Co. walloped Troy.
I was blessed with a new Arkansas Razorback vest for basketball games.
It was the vest of times (to paraphrase Charlie Dickens).
I'm having a dickens of a time with the Fayetteville men in blue, though.
One duo said we didn't have permission to camp out on Markham Hill.
Then we find out the landowners don't mind.
What in the wide, wide world of tents is going on?
Life goes on in paradise.

hogblog

Last night was some kind of wonderful!
I was awarded a Hog sweater vest to wear at the basketball games.
That gave me a giddy feeling.
Then, after reminiscing about my memories of Razorback basketball, Rotnei Clark razzled and dazzled with 51 points, highlighted by 13 treys.
Awesome baby!
When Clark swished his 13th trifecta pushing his point production to 51 points the Bud Walton Arena crowd's crescendo echoed like a national championship performance.
Clark outscored the Alcorn State team, 51-49, at that juncture.
And a freshman tallied 28 points quietly compared to Clark's bravura performance.
I remember when Martin Terry rattled the nets for 47 points the prior highest-scoring output by a Razorback and that preceded the inception of three-point shooting. Who knows how many he would've accumulated.
Looks foreboding for future Razorback foes.
The Hogs will get a true test on Tuesday when they battle the Louisville Cardinals in St. Louis.
Here's hoping the Hogs trounce Troy today and qualify for a bowl game.
Everyone was impressed with my dress attire at the Wiggins Methodist feed.

eviction

Lou Holtz once deadpanned, "The light at the end of the tunnel might be an onrushing train."
Last week I felt like I was on cloud nine.
I worked 30 hours ushering and hoped to have a nice deposit on Tuesday, Nov. 10
Alas, I've been told I'll only be paid 7 1/2 hours and then on Nov. 25 I'll get a larger sum.
Hurry up and wait.
I have a friend who's facing eviction from his campsite.
One of his friends moved.
The other one can't decide what to do.
I'm the other one.
I know the secret to life is making the right decisions.
One part of me says find the lady who owns the property and get her permission to be there.
Or I could move to another location.
Or I could go to Bentonville and stay with friends there.
On Tuesday I have an appointment with a writer from the Arkansas Traveler who wants to interview me about being homeless around Thanksgiving.
So what do I do?
I caught betwixt and between.
This ain't my first rodeo.
I've walked this lonely street before and it ain't fun.
Pardon my foul language!
God please help me make the right decisions.
Thanks to anyone who can give me some good advice because I need some input on this onrushing train.

whew

For the first time in I don't know when I took four showers this week.
I was readying myself for football and basketball games.
Ironically, I went to Dollar General Tuesday night to buy a pair of white underwear for a friend who vowed he was going to court and then to jail.
Instead I purchased two bars of Irish Green soap for $1
I made the right decision because my friend copped out (pun intended) and earned an FTA.
Now he's on the lam.
He told someone he was mad at me for bolting from our camp just because the police woke us up at 1:30 a.m. and threatened us and harassed us.
I'm sorry but I've been falsely arrested twice and spent 107 days in jail for something I didn't do.
Then I got arrested for criminal trespassing while sleeping in a friend's apartment.
Yes, I am paranoid about the police and their unjust treatment of homeless.
It's been a busy week with ushering and showering and trying to find a place to sleep every night.
Who said being homeless was a humdrum boring existence?
I've also been communicating with friends from the past on Facebook.
I've attained paperwork for public housing.
So, if all goes well I'm going to start saving money and hopefully be able to afford my own space again.
I'm tired of sleeping in a tent and I'm tired of dealing with the inhospitable Fayetteville blue boys.
Just because one finally has a job and an income doesn't mean he lives on easy street.
One friend told me, "Boy, David, you're going to be rich!"
Bah, humbug!

relativity

coping

Into every life some rain must fall.
But none of us ask for a flood or an avalanche.
Unfortunately some among us desire to fight the world with fisticuffs and be bullies.
I've tried to temper a man's temper but to no avail this time.
I'm not running from him. I'm avoiding him.
He's mad at me for decamping.
But two Fayetteville police rudely awakened us at 1:30 a.m. Wednesday.
They lectured us on the precepts that we were on private property and had no right to be there.
The police lady told the bully she knew about him beating up an unfortunate American Indian.
That's my theory about who squealed on our whereabouts.
But the tough get tougher.
We must battle the elements and sometimes the tempestuous taunts of tormentors.
One night the man in question claims he's never had a failure to appear.
But his bully buddy talked him into weaseling out and not going to court Wednesday.
That's another reason I've abandoned my tent.
He said, "They'll have to catch me on the streets."
I pray for him in one way, but hope in another he gets what's coming to him.
But I'm not a narc. I won't go running for help from the police.
That's not my style.
At first the beaten man denied he told the police anything. But I've been informed he did tell them who beat him up and where they could find him.
They did not charge my campmate with any charges which surprises me.
The puzzling aspect of this whole shebang is that this guy ended up in the ICU because of his thug so-called friend. And now they're bosom buddies. I heard from a Razorback Transit driver that he banned one of them from riding his bus. Now he knows the rest of the story, too.
Sometimes venting one's rage soothes the emotions.
There's no real cathartic effect though.
I now see why homeless individuals don't trust others. They've been abused or misused or seen violence when it was uncalled for.
I just hope to retrieve my stuff and move on. I have a friend who's offered to help me relocate. I think he and I see eye to eye and respect each other.
He told me once in the library he admires me and my intellect.
Likewise, a sports writer friend of mine told John Phillips, one of the usher supervisors, that I had the highest IQ of any of the ushers.
That's very comforting to know.
I also was blessed when Curt Yates, usher supervisor, asked me if I wanted to usher the Lady Razorbacks game Wednesday night. There were only 12 of us and that gave me an inner boost of confidence that I had been one of the select few.
I'm still very humble though.
When and if I have time and a laptop I plan on writing a book entitled, "Another Day in Paradise."
I would appreciate some comments, though.
Or an e-mail to davidlanier1951@gmail.com.
I need support in this tremulous crisis.

Saints

Today was All Saints Sunday.
At Wiggins Methodist Church the minister solemnly read the names of those Saints who had gone to their heavenly home the past year.
They rang a bell for each Saint.
That reminded me of when I gave a eulogy at my mother's funeral and said, "My mother wasn't a Roman Catholic but I would nominate her for sainthood."
When my father was being eulogized by four different ministers (plus me) one of them mentioned about him being a saint.
I ain't no saint.
But I also remember winning an award for a headline I wrote when the New Orleans Saints were coached by Jim Mora.
My prize-winning headline, "The Saints Ain't Aints No Mora."
Memories of Saints can be categorized metaphorically (as religious saints) and as sports-related Saints.
I also remember when the New Orleans Saints played their first game back in the Super Bowl and Bono and Greenday sang a tribute song paraphrasing "The House of the Rising Sun."
"There is a house in New Orleans, they call the Superdome."
I've been there once.
When Arkansas played Alabama in the Sugar Bowl and I had to cover the Alabama dressing room after they'd trounced the Razorbacks and capture the national championship.
I couldn't understand a word Bear Bryant said. He sounded like a bullfrog.
What a plethora of memories!
Thanks for the memories.

Blessings

God blesses us in miraculous ways.
Just when we're down and out sometimes unknown angels bring new radiance to our lives.
I went to a homelessness awareness rally with a depressed state of mind.
Suddenly a man rushed up to me and complimented me on my articles.
Then, the next morning a very sincere Christian blessed me.
Both prefer anonymity but they have been blessings to me.
God was in concert with their benevolence.
I now have a bright future thanks to these two fine altruistic Christians.
Here's hoping they and their families enjoy the blessings the holidays bring.
We should all praise God when he sends his immerceries into our lives.
Praise God for his grace!!
Praise God for his loving kindness!!
And praise those gentlemen who've helped me regain my self-worth.
Now it's up to me to pass it on to someone else who needs a good Samaritan.

Downsizing

Whoever came up with the term downsizing sure was a stickler for government gobbledegook.
I know I misspelled that word atrociously but I'm depressed because some friends in the journalism realm got downsized Thursday.
I went to write an article and asked where Kent Marts was. His office door was closed and I was told he was in a meeting.
D-Day struck the Daily Record.
One of the reporters told me there would be several seats available at computers by the end of the day.
Sure enough after I finished my article one of the photographers had departed and the reporter was cleaning out his desk.
The merger of the newspapers in Northwest Arkansas promulgated the axe on some very hard-working journalists.
I just hope my friend Nate Allen survived, but I'm afraid he may have lost his position at the Northwest Arkansas Times because there weren't any articles by him in the paper this morning.
He did so much for me and he was so proud I got the job as an usher at football games.
But I haven't heard from him lately and that makes me leery.
It's a scary economy we're dealing with. Computers and the Internet have downsized newspapers.
I don't know if I'll be writing anymore because they may have trimmed their budgets.
It's just a time for thanking the Lord we even have a job.

sadness

Today is a day of gloom and doom.

I just wrote an article about Cobblestone at the Daily Record, but there's going to be some downsizing here and I feel out of place again.

Kent Marts will be the editor of the weeklies and no longer affiliated with the Daily Record, so he's not in a very friendly mood.

I'm glad I wrote the article because I don't know my status in the future.

Hope all is well with everyone at Cobblestone Project.

Sorry I didn't mention more names but I felt rushed to write it.

I forgot to mention the genesis of the Green Room and its significance but maybe someday I'll have a better window of opportunity.

Ya'll are great people and deserving of commendation.

See ya in the movies!!

cobblestone

"Tripping down the cobblestones, feeling groovy."

That was a little ditty from Simon and Garfunkel.

Everyone was in a groovy mood Sunday strategizing upcoming projects.

I'm just awaiting authorization from Kent Marts about articles he desires for publication.

Everyone involved in Cobblestone Project seems to be on the same wavelength.

God blessed all of us with a special talent and we must fully utilize our abilities to best aid our fellow man.

I hope we can eradicate pockets of poverty through Laundry Love, Shear Kindness, Clothing Drive, Help Portrait and all other altruistic endeavors.

Just showing you care makes a difference in the otherwise lonely lives of the homeless.

Dare to risk. Dare to dream. Dare to make a difference.

Some of us were blessed when the Dream Team met at the Greek Theater and spread their love and caring spirit onto the lawn at Old Main.

God works through his chosen people to aid those less fortunate.

Keep on sharing and caring with your God given talent.

Togetherness

Together we can make a change.

Alone we're just one single candle in the wind.

When I was a little boy and my mother threw a birthday party for me and I got to invite some friends, that made me feel like I was more important than I really was. But for that wonderful day I felt important.

Today I don't celebrate birthdays, but someone invited me over to his house to celebrate Thanksgiving with his family.

Now I feel like I used to when I celebrated birthdays.

Jon Woodward, executive director of Seven Hills Shelter, commented that the difference between being homeless and having a stable existence was the loss of a support network.

A few years ago when I was struggling with my meaning in life, I went to Brahm's on Thanksgiving and a stranger gave me $20 to eat on.

Then, three years ago another man offered to make a reservation at a restaurant and gave me $20 to eat on.

Two years ago one of the ministers at the United Methodist Church in Bentonville invited me to his house for Thanksgiving dinner.

Last year I spent Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year's incarcerated.

Now hopefully a support network is in place and stability will be my watchword.

We all need someone to lean on, or care about us, or share in celebrating holidays. That provides a support bonding of we are family.

I remember when our family traveled to Illinois to spend Thanksgiving with my mother's parents. My father read Abraham Lincoln's speech proclaiming Thanksgiving a national holiday.

Then we all were asked to say what we thankful for.

I don't remember what we all responded, but now I know what I'm thankful for...friendship amongst my fellow houseless and the bonds of new friends who've helped me overcome my former depression around the holidays.

I gave eulogies at both of my parents' funerals. I remember the Christmas after my mother's climbing the stairway to heaven.

My father was depressed and missed my mother. He ended up in the hospital and we never really celebrated Christmas.

He died a few months later and my sister theorized he died of a broken heart.

In fact one of the nurses in the ICU said she heard him talking to my mother.

He wanted to join her.

So, just by helping the lonely out of their aloneness can make a difference.

Togetherness bonds one with all.

WhoamI?

"Very few people know who I am, and I am not one of them." -- Salvador Dali
Indeed we all are constantly searching for our identity.
And everyone looks at each other diagnosing what we really feel about each other.
Once I was a renowned sports writer and sports editor who thought the whole world revolved about wins and losses and how you play the game.
Later I played the persona of Santa Claus at Wal-Mart Christmas shop.
One of my most treasured moments occurred when a cute little girl asked me, "Santa, what are you doing here?"
I quickly quipped, "I have to make money to buy all of the presents for all of the children around the world. What do you want for Christmas, sweetie?"
Just as rapidly she remarked, "No, you don't. You can just use magic!"
Then I meekly retorted, "Well, I have to buy gifts for Mrs. Claus."
Art Linkletter once hosted a television show entitled, "Kids Say the Darndest Things."
Yes, kids believe in the magic of giving.
Even Jesus asked his disciples, "Who do you say I am?"
We all wear different personas in different milieu. When we go to worship God on Sundays we're all in the Christian spirit of joyous celebration and repentance.
But what do we do the rest of the week?
For those of us campers we just try to survive the vicissitudes of life.
We battle the elements and the critters and just seek a peaceful night's sleep, hopefully snuggly wrapped up in our sleeping bags.
What a wonderful world God created for us!
As I peer down the hilltop I'm amazed at the beauty of God's natural gifts to us.
I hope someday I'll really know who I am and why I'm currently homeless.
Right now I believe God is using me and my writing talents to provide awareness of the homeless people who are no different than anyone else. We're just a little less fortunate.
But we breath the same air and feel the same way as everyone else, no matter their status in life.
We were all created equally. It just seems that some are a little more equal than others.
So who am I?
I am not one who really knows for sure.
But I strive to treat everyone with generosity and kindness.
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
And we'll all have a merry Christmas.

sharing

I'm a sad man.
My heart bleeds.
Originally I planned to write about the haves and the have nots.
If you take away the s you have have and have not.
If you go into ot and take away the ot you have a haven for the have nots.
That's me.
I have a haven of safety with a tent and some trustworthy camping compadres.
Alas, today at Seven Hills a red-headed lady sought a tent.
Someone told her to go to CEO and receive a voucher for a tent at Mountain Man Pawn.
But she interjected, "Is this a military type tent?"
I told her to go to Life Source on Sunday night and receive a much better tent.
She said thanks for the info.
Then she proceeded to tell me where she's sleeping (underneath a tree).
My heart said help this lady out.
But my camping compadre told me earlier not to bring any strangers to our camp site.
So, what do I do now?
Suffer a guilty conscience because I could help her out.
Alas, I hope God is looking out for her tonight.

frustration

Sometimes tempers flare when frustration boils over into overreaction.
After a near perfect weekend and the beginnings of a productive and enthralling week, I witnessed two individuals who let their tempers flare at Seven Hills this afternoon.
While mulling over the course of events which seemed to be progressive for me and looking ahead to how to better myself in the future, I saw two frustrated homeless guys get into a fight while we were being served hot dogs.
Obviously they were both enraged over not being able to find employment and vented their frustrations with some ill-advised scuffling.
Someone told me one of the guys kept jumping in line hither and yon and the other proceeded to bad mouth him. Eventually they jumped at each other.
One was evicted and the other left in a huff.
Some indigents develop a bad attitude and let it affect their behavior too much.
I heard of a more serious outbreak in a New York City soup kitchen line when a guy went to the front of the line and provoked a melee. Eventually the police showed up and everyone had to scamper out.
What's the meaning of this?
Some folks feel like the world is against them and they don't have any manners or morals.
For some it was a very wet and unfriendly weekend.
I heard the guy who provoked the fight say raccoons had ruined his tent and he's miserable trying to battle the elements.
I wish now I'd try to help him more, but my camping compadre has endured numerous nasty misadventures with other campers in the past and he's very persnickety about who shares his campsite.
Sunday night he secured a larger tent for a mutual friend and recruited a snuggly sleeping bag for himself.
Likewise a friendly lady donated two sleeping bags for my benefit. And she told me if it gets cold to come to her domain, but told me not to bring anyone else.
The benefits of being a nice guy and making a good impression on folks from the outset leads to other good deeds.
The moral of the story: Be nice and friendly with everyone. Don't let the frustrations of misfortune affect your life and create trauma drama.

ushering

Arkansas ushered in a new era of football with the emergence of Ryan Mallett's throwing expertise.
Likewise, I ushered in a new adventuresome life style Saturday.
Hopefully this will lead me out of the woods and into a more prosperous milieu.
Thanks to former Razorback baseball coach Norm DeBriyn and long-time sportswriting friend Nate Allen I'm happily employed by the University of Arkansas as an usher at football games.
This has been a very exciting week capped by the Razorbacks' 44-23 conquest over Auburn.
I need to ascertain whether I can be an usher at basketball and/or baseball games.
In that eventuality I hope to save money in my bank account and plan for the future budgeting my money wisely.
Right now I have two invitations for winter housing.
My friends in Bentonville Trina and Berry Williams offered me a place to sleep on a pallet at their duplex.
Last night a lady told me I could stay at her apartment if it's cold or wet.
In the grand scheme of things, that's good for me, but I would really prefer everyone who's homeless could receive similar invitations.
Kent Marts, editor of the Daily Record, told me I could write anything I desired, but he advised me not to write about the skunk problem.
He would prefer an article about a homeless family in Bentonville as it preps for the cold weather upcoming.
That's going to be a challenge for me and the family who we end up documenting.
I hope to come to Bentonville on Thursday and meet some newfound friends and seek some advice on how to proceed on this project.

altruism

I believe in the verities of reciprocal altruism.
That entails whenever you do something to help someone else out just because you want to care and don't expect anything in return, it will come back to you when you need it the most.
Indeed, friends of mine have expressed an interest in helping me out if I need a place to stay during the cold weather.
I also have received some advice about how to handle my situation with Pepe LePew, a skunk with a nose and teeth for invading my living quarters.
Friends have told me to spread cayenee pepper around the perimeter of my tent.
And one said to take duct tape and double fold it and then put pepper on the sticky side so when the skunk starts sniffing it pepper will either drive him away or get lodged in his nostrils which will be even more disconcerting.
That's my next game plan when I get my food stamps updated on Monday.
Achoo, Pepe Le Pew!

Giddy

We all are seeking life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
Sometime the vicissitudes of life intrude on that pursuit. But a morose day becomes giddy when God intervenes.
Monday went from "Why me?" to Yippee skippy!
I sent an e-mail to the sports editor of the Arkansas Traveler and he responded for me to write a reminiscence column about the Arkansas-Texas A&M game Dec. 6, 1975.
I scurried to the Microfilm department at the UofA Mullins Library to complete my memories column.
Then I blitzed to the computer lab at the Fayetteville Blair Library to write the column.
Today Matt Watson took my mug shot so hopefully I'll be published again in the Traveler.
Thank God for godsends like Matt!
Through God, anything is possible.
Alas, a good friend Otis found out he needs further surgery in November.
Pray for him. He's a great man!

coping

Whenever adversity strikes, cope don't mope.
I had to reorganize my blogging because of a spammer who whammied friends and tried to solicit money.
So Yahoo wiped me out.
Now I'm back to square one.
Hope all interested followers pick up on this.
I'm coping not moping.
But I'm not a very happy camper.
Thanks to friends I will survive.

Angst

Life angst what it used to be!
That's how I feel.
Like I'm in a Woody Allen movie.
I still haven't figured out the meaning of life.
I still haven't figured out why I'm floundering, sleeping in a tent with a skunk who keeps breaking in and interrupting my sleep and my friends sleep.
Oh, well, I'm just going to keep on keeping on.

Insight

I used to wish I could be on the inside looking out.
When I was sleeping in the backseat of an abandoned car in Bentonville I used to travel to Fayetteville to relish in a free meal on Dickson Street at either the Episcopal Church or Central Methodist.
As I sat alone I wondered what it would be like to know these people as friends.
Alas, now I wonder why I ever wanted to be one of those people who frequent the meals everyday.
I'm tired of the same old humdrum existence.
I'm belaboring the same old stale routine.
I desire change!
The insider's viewpoint ain't what I had hoped it would be.
I'm not clairvoyant.
I'm not possessed by the sixth sense of perception.
I'm enlightened but filled with ennui and angst.
I want to change the world but I need the patience and persistence I used to have when I was homeless alone in Bentonville.
The pastures aren't greener.
But I do have friends now and I'm anxiously awaiting a brighter day for all of my acquaintances.
I don't play the panhandler's game though.
I will never beg with an outstretched hand or hold up a sign saying I need help.
I want to be a part of the cure and not a part of the problem.
So, with God's help and with the help of his messengers we can make a difference in the lifestyles of the impoverished.
Please, lend a helping hand to my compatriots!!!
Thanks for listening.
Thanks for caring.
And most of all thanks for sharing!!!!!

tired

I'm a somnabulist.
That's a sleep walker in plain English.
Actually I'm a faux somnabulist.
This morning at 1 a.m. Pepe LePew's son or daughter (actually I don't know how you identify or correctly categorize a baby skunk) skedaddled across my tent and grazed my body. I didn't panic and bellow out a blood-curdling yell. I just expeditiously exited my tent and bemoaned my ill fate. That's the second time this week the goldarned skunk has awakened me at 1 a.m. He or she, whichever, must have a built in alarm clock set for 1 a.m.
I'm befuddled.
How do I rid myself of this nuisance?
Some say eradicate him with lead poisoning or a gun stuffed inside a towel.
Nope.
I'm no dope.
I've never fired a gun in my life.
I can't call Skunk Busters Unlimited.
I guess the only other alternative is to leave food outside the campgrounds, so he will just feast elsewhere.
Otherwise, I guess I'm doomed to dealing with this nonsense every night. I will pray for rain.
On Oct. 3 a group of caring Christians are planning a pancake breakfast for the homeless. Hopefully we'll be able to feed and clothe some winter warriors.
Further announcements and updates will be posted.
More than likely, we'll solicit invitations and tickets and issue want sheets.

partnership

A unity of purpose and partnership imbued the gathering of the Cobblestone Project Sunday night in the monthly Green Room meeting.
When Mike Rusch queried me about what needed be done I responded that his group could bridge the gap imposed when homeless people lost their links of belonging to a community.
I implored the interested participants and volunteers to initiate a clothing drive to aid in battling the upcoming bout with inclement weather elements.
Mike jumped on that theme and a brainstorming session ensued.
Rick Healy will be enumerating a list of needed items to donate to the less fortunate.
Mike has asked for volunteers to organize their individual assignments. Some will ask for specific donations and then he will devise a central hub for storage of the clothes and other essential weather-related protective items.
Several agencies which have caseworkers can provide a focus on who really needs these winter panaceas.
All in all, everyone working together as a team of dedicated co-workers can reestablish the self-esteem some of us have lost during our trials and tribulations.
I had to scurry away from my campsite this morning at 1 a.m. due to the persistent gnawing of holes in my tent from that pesky pest Pepe LePew, so I forgot my notebook in my tent.
I'm almost afraid to see what damage Pepe may have incurred on my belongings.
I've exhausted Plans A-Z and now must revert to Plan Alpha just like the meteorologists incurred during the most horrendous hurricane season on record, a la Katrina and Rita. Before the tropical storm season a team of meteorologists pre-selects names through the English alphabet. That year they had to start on the Greek alphabet. Here's hoping I don't end up at omega.
I'm not a harmful hating anti-varmint I want to kill you kind of guy. I've never fired a gun and don't plan on doing so just because of a voracious skunk.
But it's tempting.

sooiecide

Woooo! Pigs! Phooey!
The first quarter of the Georgia-Arkansas game was awesome.
Then when Jerry Franklin got ejected we fell apart.
I received an e-mail message from Curtis Yates about ushering. Alas, I didn't see it until Saturday morning and didn't have access to a telephone.
Shucky darns!
Hopefully I can attain a black pair of shoes and a white shirt by the next home game.
I had a very interesting conversation with a fellow "houseless" person at Seven Hills.
He asked me if I knew the difference between a hobo and a tramp.
A hobo will hold up a sign seeking monetary compensation. But he'll only use the money on himself and no one else and refuses to work.
A tramp will hold up a sign seeking work and will work.
He said he was a tramp.
He plans to go to Sarasota, Fla. and work for a circus or carnival during the winter months when they're fixing their rides and touring Florida.
I hope to apply for a job at the UofA and also usher future Razorback football games.
I also hope to attend the Green Room meeting of Cobblestone Project tonight and write about their projects for the Daily Record.
I probably will go to Bentonville on Tuesday and see if Kent will print my next article.

zubs

Today has been an awesome day.
My good friend Henry Ho breakfasted at Chick Fil A. He gave me my laundry in a water-proof bag and provided me with a pair of Zubs. I'm going to have to learn how to wear this fashionable do-rag.
Don Imus better not make fun of me like he did the Rutgers women's basketball team.
And, as Henry forewarned, don't wear it into a convenience store. I'm not going to be one of America's Dumbest Criminals.
The skunk, Pepe LePew, is a gnarly nuisance!!
We don't want to have a skunk roast but he's keeping us up at night with his food foraging exhibitions.
Lesson No. 1: Don't leave food in your tent!
Lesson No. 2: Duct tape holes and plug them up with rocks!
Lesson No. 3: Don't attack a skunk or else one will be sprayed!
Lesson No. 4: A Razorback Transit bus driver told me he incurred the wrath of a skunk underneath his house. Or at least his cat did.
So he called a former animal control officer who advised him to use Massengill douche to deodorize and eradicate the overwhelmingly gagging smell.

whew!!

"It was the best of times. It was the worst of times."
Charles Dickens penned that in "A Tale of Two Cities."
It was the blessed of times. It was the discombolatingest of times.
I quipped that and used a word that probably doesn't exist.
But I've been accused of using words that don't exist but 99.999999 percent of the time the words are in the dictionary.
Once a gentleman (and I use that word politely) sent me a copy of one of my sports articles which he had yellow marked 32 times and said I should read the book "KISS -- the Elements of Style." Keep it simple stupid.
I wrote a rejoinder column and said that my mother used to cut out my columns and pin them up around her bed, so when I returned home for Christmas they would be there adorning her room.
So, I politely wrote I would adhere to the KISS style, Keep It Scintillating Sir!!
I lost my identity last night.
But all of my cards were found in the library computer lab where I'd left them.
Like I told the nice lady at the checkout counter, if you're going to lose something lose it in the library where it will be safe.
All's well that ends well. I don't know who said that but it's how I feel today.
Thanks for reading and responding.
I hope to see the crackerjack charismatic Christians Mike and Rick Sunday at the Green Room meeting. And hopefully Kent will print my article following the meeting. He told me to just write when I attended an important event.

Relief

Thanks to a great friend, Spencer Craft, I'm not going to be a jailbird.
We went to District Court yesterday and he showed the prosecuting attorney his lease on his apartment on Hill Street in which I was arrested for criminal trespassing.
The attorney obliged and said Noli processi.
So I don't have the Hill Street Blues anymore!
But last night when I got back to our campsite one of my camping buddies lambasted me and said all I care about is computers.
So, I'm antisocial today.
I don't know his intentions but it hurt my feelings.
We're all praying today for our good friend Otis who undergoes surgery at the hospital in Springdale.
He's battling bladder cancer and hopefully they'll be able to extract the devious tumor and it won't have spread elsewhere.
Otis is one of the greatest friends a person could have.
Pray for him.

Faux pas

Oops! My slip was showing yesterday!
Gadzooks!
While praising Mike Rusch and Rick Boosey for their awesome food distribution project I committed an infamous faux pas.
Mike and his altruistic band of helpful Christians started an organization entitled the Cobblestone Project. I errantly mislabeled them the Cornerstone Project. My bad!
I'm currently writing about their endeavors and hope to have it published in the very near future. That all rests with Kent Marts, editor extraordinaire of the Benton County Daily Record.
I also probably need to break this down into paragraphs.
The last two nights my campmate Dewayne had the misfortune of being "hazed" by Pepe LePew, our skunkmate who enjoys partying at our expense.
Mike and Rick loaded us up with soup and homemade potato chips. I pulled a fast one on Dewayne and put a bag of those scrumptious Boosey chips in his tent.
Alas, Pepe smelled those delicacies and kept pawing at Dewayne's tent all night long. Once he even jumped on Dewayne's arm.
So Dewayne sought another tent and went to CEO for a voucher.
But he forgot and left a bag of Ramen noodles in his tent which tickled Pepe LePew who crunched and munched on them last night.
What's the next chapter in the saga of the voracious skunk?
At least he hasn't sprayed us with his love juice yet. Or maybe I should rephrase that and call it his I hate to be annoyed juice. So, leave this skunk alone!

cleanliness

Cleanliness is next to Godliness.
Thanks to the caring and sharing heart of Henry Ho, one of my blog mentors, I now have a clean slate at the library, i.e. no more fines, and I will have clean clothes due to his friendly laundry service.
Sometimes those drudgery chores, like laundry, translate into luxurious thank you very much for your friendship and good cheer.
Indeed, it was serendipity for me when Henry approached me one Saturday morning and said he wanted to help but didn't know how. The friendship blossomed into a meaningful relationship for both of us.
Henry read some of my articles and encouraged me to blog. Thanks to the computer expertise of Glenn Miller here we are.
I encourage followers to respond with comments, suggestions and other helpful input.
Thanks for reading and thanks for caring and sharing.
Sometimes just one person's heart touches another's heart and the feeling keeps nurturing a friendship between two people from different backgrounds whose lifes intersect in an interpersonal bonding relationship.
I'm blessed and know that someday I'll be able to pass it on in similar fashion.

homelessness alone

Sadly, today I witnessed a truly homeless man.
There are haves and have-nots amongst the homeless.
Some of us are fortunate to have a tent and some trustworthy camp-mates who aid us in our travails. We are the haves.
Then, there are the have-nots who don't have any friends and sleep wherever their head rests that night.
I saw a man, who shall remain anonymous, asleep on the bench at Lot 56.
He lost his tent and all his belongings during a flash flood. That's at least the second time he's seen his personal sleeping accomodations swept away by a deluge of water.
Now he's destitute.
That's the definitive homeless man who needs help more than anyone else. He can't cope on his own.
He relies on others. And sometimes there's no one to help him, so he just sleeps wherever there's a vacant bench.
I'm bewildered but know how he feels because last year at this time I was sleeping in an abandoned house on Leverett.
Alas, one night I returned and the house had been razed to the ground. All that was left was a pile of bricks.
Crestfallen I went to the Walton Arts Center and slept in the "garden" two nights.
Finally a man befriended me and permitted me to camp out with him.
Again, the only people who can truly help a "homeless" individual is another homeless person who cares and shares his humble surroundings.
More on this later. I'm just still trying to fathom why some are haves and others are have-nots.

stereotypes

I just read a dynamic expose of the myths of homelessness.
1. Homelessness is not a recession-induced phenomenon.
Income inequality and persistent poverty are silent causes of homelessness since the Reagan years.
2. To end homelessness we need more affordable housing. There is no county in America where a person earning minimum wage can afford the median cost of housing, so being house poor leads to more homeless individuals.
3. We need both sandwiches and solutions. Just feeding the homeless doesn't resolve the main issues like how to extricate one from this predicament.
4. Stereotypes are wrong -- most homeless people fly under the radar.
We can't see it.
Most people stereotypically envision a homeless man as bedraggled, sleeping in a paper box with a bottle of whiskey in his hand or someone panhandling for drugs or cigarettes.
There's families in need sleeping in cars or in tents.
5. Get mad and do something.

VAHope2009

The Veterans Administration plans a Hope 2009 event at the Jefferson School Sept. 17.
No cost services include dental and vision exams, haircuts, legal advice, substance abuse counseling, housing assistance, Social Security services and employment opportunities. Clothing and groceries will be available along with lunch.
Each client will be paired with a volunteer who will stay with them throughout the process.
Sounds like a very worthwhile project.
Yes, there is hope because there are individuals willing to help.
One doesn't have to be a veteran to participate.

laborday

This week unravels a ravenous array of exquisite cuisine and Razorback camaraderie.
On Wednesday I've been invited for fine dining with Nate Allen, sports writer extraordinaire, and Norm DeBriyn, former Razorback baseball coach.
We're pigging out at the Pig and Whistle barbecue.
In 1979 while covering the Razorback baseball team I tabbed them the "Sultans of Swing."
Apropos, while battling the Texas A&M Aggies during a Southwest Conference doubleheader, the song "Sultans of Swing" by Dire Straits was played over the loudspeaker system at College Station during the break between games.
Inspired perhaps, the Razorbacks rapped out 26 hits to set a school record.
Then, Wednesday night DesaRae Richardson has invited me over to her house for a meal and a shower.
The topic of conversation will be both of our desires to help the homeless.
DesaRae has applied for government funding for a homeless shelter.
More to come soon.

Outskunking a skunk

After being harassed by Pepe LePew I've reviewed my scenarios for deterrence and now plan to plant some garlic around my tent.
A friend said they sprout up very fast and might be the ticket for outskunking the skunk.
Hopefully this will be the springboard for more comfortable sleep because I have nightmares of the skunk inside my tent abode.
I've never been a sound sleeper anyway but the skunk has me with the heebie jeebies.
If anyone has any other quaint or utilitarian suggestions please let me know at either this blog site or by e-mailing me at davidlanier51@yahoo.com.
Thanks.

Pepe LePew

Just another day in paradise!
That's the credo most of us campers invoke to express our facetious satisfaction with our realm of existence.
Alas, critterdom doesn't always agree with that symbolic anthem of welcoming a new day.
Their priorities revolve around feeding their faces and if you have food in your tent, then it's better to receive than give.
I've inherited a family of skunks who've chewed holes in my tent and welcomed themselves inside.
I'm a giving and forgiving altruistic soul, but my patience and perseverance are seriously being tested by Pepe LePew and his kinfolks.
Whenever I seek advice, Max Leichner, a local proprietor swears by moth balls.
His best friend Eddie Johnson even supplied me with a box.
That worked wonders (for a couple of nights) because I heard skunk sneezing.
But the skunks quickly adapted to the smell and now come in whenever they please.
I used duct tape to sew up their chewing, but that still isn't sufficient for the skulking skunks.
This morning I heard some gnawing and voila, Pepe LePew, how do you do?
That's not my idea of a harmonious day in paradise.
So, I ventured forth to Bentonville to meet and greet Kent Marts, editor extraordinaire of the Benton County Daily Record. His hunting persona kicked in and he advised the old fashioned remedy -- a pistol wrapped in a towel.
Wham, bam, thank you ma'am (if Pepe is really a female), then that might be the ticket to alleviating my skunk alarm(ing) way to start the day.
But I'm more of an Albert Schweitzerian at heart and can't fathom killing skunks just because they're hungry and desire some satisfaction from my food stamp oriented snacks.
So, readerdom provide me with some relief!

Bonding

Today's topic to consider is bonding.
Whenever adversity strikes whom do you trust?
Some homeless individuals come to the aid of those who they consider to be followers instead of leaders. That creates trust and a bond occurs. Togetherness is better than loneliness.
It's a lot easier to cope with life's adversities whenever teamwork occurs.
I've bonded with a couple of friends and now we're campmates.
We all sleep in separate tents.
One of our rules is whenever approaching the campsite we announce our identity so as not to alarm or create suspicion.
In every avenue of life we bond with others. I've never been married but I suppose happy, loving married couples can vouch for that scenario of bonding.
I'm still trying to figure out how others can access my blog site.