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.