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Archive for November, 2014
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INTRODUCTION
This post is Open for All. If You belong to another Religious Community, You may Not like to give a ‘like.’ That depends upon You. This is perhaps my Most Important post. Do Please Share it, at least on Twitter. This is also one of the Most Difficult posts I have written! But I shall complete it as it is Needed.
The Whole Point of this article is to say that, the pope and the bishops have to Use their responsible places of Authority to say that:
PEOPLE WITH SERIOUS SINS ON THEIR CONSCIENCE SHOULD NOT RECEIVE COMMUNION.
This should be Thundered out from All Pulpits, in no Uncertain terms, again and again. Let it Not be said that people Know this. Times Demand that this be Vocalized.
Saying these sorts of things In the Churches would have Two Effects:
- Those who might be guilty of such behaviour would…
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Book Thoughts: Gotta Find A Home: Conversations with Street People by Dennis Cardiff
Posted: November 21, 2014 in Uncategorized
Gotta Find A Home: Conversations with Street People by Dennis Cardiff is one of those books that you pick up on a lark. I picked it up because the second part of the title intrigued me. Conversations with street people? What the heck?!
So, I added this book to my to-be-read bookshelf and went on my merry way. Why did my mind keep wandering back to the question that Cardiff’s title implies? What kind of conversations are we talking about? Real conversations? Fictionalized conversations? More importantly, my brain had this question. What could street people have to say?
I’m not (too) ashamed to say that prior to reading this book I, among the masses, averted my eyes when passing a panhandler on the street. I assumed that they were there because they wanted to be there; they missed/lost opportunities and now had to fight and claw their way to get…
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5.0 out of 5 stars
An Excellent & Very Thoughtful Read, November 20, 2014
By
The Notebook Blogairy (New York, NY) – See all my reviews
Verified Purchase(What’s this?)
This review is from: Gotta Find a Home: Conversations with Street People (Kindle Edition)
Gotta Find A Home: Conversations with Street People by Dennis Cardiff is one of those books that you pick up on a lark. I picked it up because the second part of the title intrigued me. Conversations with street people? What the heck?!
So, I added this book to my to-be-read bookshelf and went on my merry way. Why did my mind keep wandering back to the question that Cardiff’s title implies? What kind of conversations are we talking about? Real conversations? Fictionalized conversations? More importantly, my brain had this question. What could street people have to say?
I’m not (too) ashamed to say that prior to reading this book I, among the masses, averted my eyes when passing a panhandler on the street. I assumed that they were there because they wanted to be there; they missed/lost opportunities and now had to fight and claw their way to get back to ‘normalcy’.
Gotta Find A Home did not disabuse me of this notions. For the most part, those beliefs of mine remain largely intact. The conversations that Cardiff shares with his readers are actual factual retellings of his many conversations with people he met on the streets who identified themselves as “Street People.”
According to Cardiff, Street People are people who panhandle for a living and have done it for a long time (like a decade or more). But I digress.
Gotta Find A Home is a book that pulls no punches. It is a straight forward daily account of the day-to-day lives of this close-knit group of panhandlers in Toronto. There is no plot. There is no structure other than the loose timeline of these conversations. There is no true end. This book is a fly-on-the-wall view of what life is like for various members of this group of people who in one week have more crises than the UN, the Pentagon and the Middle East put together. Members of this group have fatal illnesses, severe health issues, psychological issues, financial woes, and of course, issues with finding stable clean housing.
Add on top of these major issues the normal squabbling among a large group of close-knit friends (which many times devolves into fist fights…) and you have what Cardiff calls a ‘soap opera’.
Gotta Find A Home: Conversations with Street People will leave you feeling haunted, questioning and, I believe, sympathetic. While many of the people in this book did not change one iota their stories and back-stories are compellingly sad. It makes one realize that with just a different decision (or two) any one of us could have chosen the path that some of the people in Cardiff’s book have chosen.
This is an excellent and very thoughtful read. I give it 5 stars for content.
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17 November 2014
“Good morning, Chuck,” I said. “How was your weekend?”
“It was good, I guess. Friday, I wanted my son and his wife to come over and do some things for me . When I got home there was a phone message from saying him that he couldn’t come over, because his wife was sick. His wife wasn’t sick, she was drunk. She’s always fuckin’ drunk. The same thing the next day. I got my nephew to do some things, but he could only do so much. I need someone to clean my top shelves. There’ve been lots of people who were supposed to do that, but they haven’t been cleaned for the past five years. With my wobbly legs there’s now way I’d get up on a chair to do them myself.
“Did you notice that Ghyslain isn’t across the street today. That’s my fault. Earlier, I was panning on the corner by the coffee shop. A crackhead sat down on the steps near the door. He was yelling, ‘Gimme change, gimme change.’ He was also insulting anyone, especially women, who didn’t give him anything. I phoned the cops. When they came they told him to move along, they said the same to Ghyslain. It wasn’t my intention that he be rousted, but I don’t mind. He’s a nosy asshole. When the lady cop was talking to me the other day, he rushed over to find out what she said. It was none of his damned business, but I told him, just to avoid a scene.
“I watched a NASCAR race on Saturday. THe driver I was cheering for, Cole Whitt, was in fourth place when he came into the pit stop to change tires. The silly asshole using the jack pulled it out before all the wheels had been replaced, so that really screwed them up. The driver went from fourth to twenty-sixth place. I’m sure that mechanic doesn’t have a job today.
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Cutting My Grass – 14 November 2014
Posted: November 14, 2014 in Dialog, ProseTags: alcoholism, assistance, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, homeless, kindness, panhandlers, philosophy, psychology, sociology
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14 November 2014
“You look cold, Joy,” I said.
“I’m, fuckin’ freezing. I can’t stay here much longer. My legs are so stiff I can hardly bend them.”
I said, “I noticed Ghyslain standing on the corner.”
“Yeah, usually he goes over to Silver’s old spot. I don’t know why he’s being such an asshole today. He’s cutting my grass.”
“Chuck said that he doesn’t drink. Is that right?”
“Yeah, he’s a crackhead among other things.”
“You mentioned that you we’re getting a three-wheeled scooter. How is that coming along?”
“It belongs to a friend of Buck’s mom. She can’t get out any more, so they were going to toss it. He asked me before if I’d be interested. I thought it would be too much trouble, since I can’t get it downstairs to my apartment, but I’m having so much trouble with my legs that I’ve changed my mind.”
I said, “It would be great for you to drive to the store. You wouldn’t have so much trouble carrying heavy grocery bags.”
Joy kicked her plastic storage box to the wall and wrapped a scarf around her face. “I’m heading off now. Maybe, I’ll see you next week, maybe not.”
Chuck was on his telephone when I approached him. He ended his call and said, “Women, why do they have to talk so much. I made arrangements to meet my friend for lunch and the bacon and burger place. She didn’t know where it was so I said, ‘From where I am now, turn left for one block, then turn right for two blocks. It’s on the corner. You can’t miss it.’ She asked, ‘But, which corner?’ I said, ‘The southeast corner.’ She said, ‘I’m not sure which corner that is.’ I said, ‘If you’re facing uphill, that’s north. East is on your left, west is on your right. When you get to the corner you’ll see the sign.’
“I heard that Joy is getting a scooter. I don’t think they’ll cover that if she can’t bring it inside for the winter.”
I said, “That’s probably why Joy was looking for a new apartment. Big Jake will have the same problem with his electric wheelchair.”
Chuck said, “That’s the problem with people, she’s been talking about a new apartment for the past year. Talking about it doesn’t get you anywhere. You have to go out and do it. It’s the same with getting a job. When I was out of work I walked up this street, to the end, and asked at every store for an application. The next day I did the same on the other side. I went into a dry cleaning place and they offered me a job. I started the next day. I was there about three months. The heat and the fumes were incredible. It would be ninety degrees outside and it would feel cool after coming out of the store. I worked in the back, sealing the plastic dry cleaning bags. My fingers were always getting burned. Eventually, I built up calluses.
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Keys Found – 13 November 2014
Posted: November 13, 2014 in Dialog, ProseTags: Buddhism, charity, Christianity, compassion, empathy, homeless, kindness, panhandlers, philosophy, psychology, sociology
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13 November 2014
“Hi, Joy,” I said, “it’s good to see you. How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay, my legs get stiff, especially in this cold. I’m going to be getting a three-wheeled scooter. That’ll make getting around a lot easier.
“Big Jake’s going to see his p.o. (parole officer) today, so he’ll be coming over early. I’m not too pleased with that. I usually have to shoo him out when it’s time for me to go to bed. I get up at 5:00. He phones me around 2:00, which usually means he’s been up for about an hour. I’ve been feeling sick for the past week or so. Jake’s been coughing and he doesn’t cover his mouth. He stays at the mission, where most people cough with out covering their mouths. Who knows what kind of airborne cooties are flying around.
“Have you been up to the park to see the guys?”
“Yeah,” I said, I’ve seen Jacques, Little Chester, Mariah. On Remembrance Day I sat on the bus with Little Jake. He’d been downtown for the services. He was pissed off with Jacques for pulling out his pot pipe in public.
“Little Jake told me that Hippo came over to your place for supper.”
“Yeah, what a fiasco that was. He and Little Jake came over at about 11:00 in the morning. I said, ‘What the fuck are you guys doing here. Get lost!’ Later, Hippo came over by himself and asked, ‘Are you in a better mood now? Did you forget that you invited us over for a meal?’ I felt about this tall (indicating with her fingers approximately an inch.) So, he came in and I made lunch. Outcast dropped over later. I had to kick him out after three beer, because he gets to be such a dickhead.”
I said, “You mentioned that Big Jake was helping towards the expenses. How is that working out?”
“He’s been helping, but he smokes and eats so damn much I’d be better off on my own. We bought a bag of native cigarettes. He filled his container three times before I finished my first. I said to his, “Why do you smoke so much? You’ve just put one out, you don’t need another so soon.”
I asked, “What do you think of my book?”
“I haven’t finished it. I’ll reserve judgement until the end.”
I said, “I can change anything you disagree with. I’ll give a copy to everyone, after it has your approval.”
Joy said, “Outcast said something about it, but he’s such a bullshitter, I never know what to believe.
“I was debating whether or not to come down here. It means two bus tickets, but I guess it was worth it. I’m not staying long. I’m looking forward to getting a big chicken sandwich, when I leave.”
I said, “I’ll stop to see Chuck on my way to work.”
Joy said, “I’ll be here tomorrow. I need the money. It’s the end of the week.”
“Hi Chuck, did you find your keys?”
“Yes I found them. I told you I phoned my son. He said he would check on my place in an hour. He took a lot longer than an hour. When I got home I let myself in the back door. That gives me access to the hallway. when I got to my apartment my son was there and my keys were on the coffee table. I’d left them in the door when I went back to get change. So, everything worked out in the end.”
I said, “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow, depending on the weather.”
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Lost Keys – 11 November 2014
Posted: November 12, 2014 in Dialog, ProseTags: alcoholism, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, kindness, mental health, panhandlers, philosophy, psychology, sociology, unconditional love
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11 November 2014
I was on the bus coming home from work when a man sat next to me. I didn’t look up, but smelled sherry and beer. It was Little Jake. I asked, “Did you come downtown for the Remembrance Day service?”
“I tried to get down in time, but I missed the bus by this much (indicating with his fingers about an inch). “Damn it, I was so pissed off. I’d wanted to see the planes fly overhead at 11:00. I was walking down Main Street and I heard them fly over. I couldn’t see them. I was looking all around, I nearly stepped into traffic.
“Jacques was down there. I got pissed off with him too. We’re standing there, out in the open, parents and kids standing all around, and he pulls out his pot pipe. I was ready to smack him upside the head, the way a father would do to his son, but that would have only brought more attention. I think it was disrespectful. He could have waited an hour before toking up.”
I asked, “Have you seen Joy lately?”
“It’s the weirdest thing,” said Jake. “She invited Hippo and me over for supper. We knocked on the door and she said, ‘What the fuck are you guys doing here?’ Hippo looked at me and we both thought woo woo. What’s up with her? Hippo saw that she was cooking steaks and asked if he could come in for supper. I didn’t think that was right, so I went up to Mariah’s place. Later, Hippo said that Joy wasn’t looking good. She’s lost weight and her face was pale. That’s Hippo, anything for something to eat.”
“Yes,” I said, “that’s Hippo.”
Jake said, “I hope that Stella comes down tomorrow. I want her to give me a photo of Shakes. She said she’d bring one down.
“Here’s my stop. I’ll see you soon.”
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12 November 2014
“Good morning, Dennis,” said Chuck. I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you much on Friday. My lady friend phoned and she wouldn’t stop talking. It wasn’t anything important, just about old movies. I’ve told her not to call me here, because I’m working. I phone her once a day to let her know that I’m okay. I phone two of my sons as well.
“I really screwed up this morning. I lost my keys. I went out the door locked it, then went back in to get some change. If I hadn’t done that I would have been alright, but when I got downtown I reached in my pocket for my wallet. That’s when I realized that my keys weren’t there. They may have fallen out of my pocket at the restaurant, when I went to the washroom, or I may have left them in the door when I locked up. I can’t imagine leaving without locking the door. Luckily, I have a spare key for the back door. My lady friend and my two sons also have keys. I phoned my son and asked that he go to my place and look for my keys, but he said he wouldn’t be able to go over for about an hour. A lot can happen in an hour.
“My neighbor on the right is good people, but she’s hardly ever there. I pick up her flyers and her mail when I see it, otherwise it’d pile up and people would know her apartment was vacant. My neighbor, Norm, on the left is a good guy. I’ve known him for years, even before I stopped drinking. There are some university students down the hall that I don’t trust. They said they were university students but all they seem to do is party.
“I remember going down to the hotel one night. I was sitting alone near the back. Norm passed me when he was going into the bathroom. He was there a long time. When he came out he was drunk. I was sitting there with a coffee. Norm asked, ‘What are you doing there without a drink?’ I said, ‘I’ve got no damn money! I’m flat broke!’ He slipped me a twenty.”
I said, “I hear the temperature is going down to near freezing this afternoon.”
“I’m not worried,” said Chuck, “In about an hour I’ll be all snuggled up in my warm apartment.”
I asked, “Did you come down yesterday for the Remembrance Day services?”
“Yeah, I didn’t come here, I went directly to the mall. I was dressed in my suit. I had a poppy on my lapel and another on my hat. I stayed for the whole service. I respect what soldiers have done for us.”
Streetsister 