What you feed will grow, part 2

Before I started work tonight, I was thinking about what I wanted to write after I finished. I decided I would make the subject "what you feed will grow", and I continued to mull it over and over, until it occurred to me that I think I have already used that title. So I searched my blog, and sure enough, it was a post from august 2010. Just about two months into my homeless-living-in-my-truck experience.

Things are different now, but the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Between then and now, I spent six months caretaking my friend's life while she was held first in jail, unjustly, and then in immigration detention. She finally was released, and I spent another three months nursing and supporting her until she was back to herself enough to kick me out. (I am so proud of her, I don't know if I could have re-cooped my own life as fast). The last three months have seen us transition from living together and seriously irritating each other, to living apart and maintaining a really cool and close friendship. Now that we don't have each other's neuroses in our respective faces, we are able to really enjoy the time that we choose to spend together.

So we were having dinner last night. We had just been disappointed again with a theft-of-wages hearing, and we were talking about what happens next. I told her how proud I am to be her friend, and how inspired I am to watch her artist inside come alive and come out, and really start producing some very cool pieces. She was still in a funk, and she replied "but that's only because of you" referring to how I try to support her. And I thought about that, a lot.

I have been helping her a lot. I do it because it makes me feel good. I like being considered strong and dependable. It is very different from my life just a few years ago. Yes, I have given her a good deal over the last year, but I think I have benefitted more than she has. She has a creative, artistic nature. I give her $20, and she finds a piece of someone else's trash, and converts into something worth $200-300. It is amazing.

And because I have chosen to support her, I have had to take care of myself. The first thing you learn in any medical or psychological or military profession is that you have to take care of yourself first. If you can't keep yourself healthy and strong, how can you expect to help anyone else become healthy and strong? It seems obvious, but so many people martyr themselves to get others to take care of them, instead of taking care of themselves. It is a subtle, but significant note on perspective in life.

So in the past three months, while my friend has regained her self, (she did all the work), I have turned my truck from a non-moving hazard into a solid and dependable form of transportation. There is still much to be done, but she (my truck) has definitely turned a corner. I was just given an awesome new, used bicycle. First owned by a japanese cycling enthusiast, then given to my israeli bartender friend; it is a touring bike, an itallian frame, very light, and very fast. She gave it to her boyfriend, who in turn, gave it to me after he bought a ducati (very high performance motorcycle). I put a little money into the bicycle to get it back on the road, and to make it secure, and I am totally happy with it.

I am in a cheap apartment. My new roommates and I have managed to struggle into a peaceful, moderately respectful, co-existence. The extra guys found their own apartment, got their car fixed, and have vacated the premises. The one remaining sicilian is young but hard working. Uncultured, but learning, and respectful. All 20 year old males have problems picking up after themselves. But don't think for a minute he's getting very much slack because of his age.

So I haven't saved much money yet. That was bothering me until I reflected on what I done over the past two months. I am actually building credit in life again. Not credit as in loans, but as in I have the tools I need to repair my truck and my bicycle, and my boat when it finally comes. You can't just leave on a circumnavigation on a whim, you have to provision first. Right now I am assembling the tools, the organization, the skills, and the relationships, that will move me onto a solid blue-water boat and get me safely from miami to san diego, via africa, india, australia, and hawaii.

Before I came back to south beach, I did my best to take care of a beautiful soul in a chihuahua's body named kenny, and a porch full of nice plants. Kenny got me here by giving up his life; a debt I can never repay. My plants, I think, have happy homes now. When I wrote that posting in august after I had just become homeless, I was feeding ideas. I had a vision, and not much else.

As I write this posting, I find I continue to feed the same ideas, but I am rich. I have tools and toys. And I have plans to get more of what I need so that I can better take care of those around me. My life has become heavier in that spiritual sense, and has materialized many of the things I knew would help me when I was lost in my addiction and depression. I have a long way to go, but I am now squarely on that road, trudging my way to happy destiny.

When it comes to money, and suburbia, and credit, I am still, as my friend says, seriously in the shit. But if you look at my standard of living, my relationships, and my ability to deal with life and it's ever changing stresses, I am rock solid. Yes, I still drink, I occassionally have altercations with others (nothing past verbal), but I do not use cocaine, and I do not hide from those who do choose to use. My peers, for the most part, love and respect me (as I do them), and I make new friendly aquaintences everyday. True friends are rare, but I have 3 or 4. Seriously, I am rich.

Two years ago I took a leap of faith... I jumped into the abyss and trusted that a net would appear. I am here now to tell you that it did. And the past two years have not been peaches and cream, crimson and clover. They have been hard, and everyday full of dhuki. But my higher power, the one I chose to form a personal relationship with, has never for an instant left my side. He carries me when I cannot carry myself. He does things that I cannot do for myself. And I do as much as I can for myself. I don't expect anything from anyone. But somehow, things ALWAYS work out. I have many to thank. I am almost always grateful (key word almost), bottom line though... find your own higher power, no matter what it is, and learn to trust it. Once you truely have that, you won't need anything else.

Things change. Every minute, every day. If you don't like things the way they are, change yourself, keep your head down, and wait for everyone else to dash themselves on the rocky cliffs of fortune. Keep your shit tight, and let others figure themselves out. That's my best advice at this point in my life. I hope it helps. Just don't forget that things change, and the more they change, the more they stay the same.

Cool breezes, and happy sailing!

The american dream

I had a severe American experience tonight. Tonight, the words "Don't tread on me" came into my life with a force I haven't experienced to date.

Believe it or not, my new hatian roommate came to me and essentially said, "look, these sicilians are going to run all over us if we don't make a stand". Our new roommate brought three friends who think that they have equal access to the apartment. The shower, the kitchen, the storage space, and the three of them are sleeping in a tiny Audi outside the apartment.

I saw it a day or two ago, but I've been working, and I figured there's no way they can make it more than two weeks. But my hatian friend, who is not working at the momemt, see's them come in and use the bathroom, pile their stuff up in the corners, and he's a little perturbed about the situation. So he overcomes his hatred of me and asks me to unleash a little whoopass on our new intruders.... just like I did on him and my other friend, john, the guy from arkansas, only two weeks ago...

Basically the situation is this; three adult men are supposed to share an approximately 450 sq. ft. space. We currently have six men in that space. One guy moved in and thought it would be okay to bring his three other friends. Really it isn't okay with the two of us who have found a way to pay our rents by ourselves. And despite all the friction between us in the last two weeks, we recognize that if we don't say something together, these six guys are going to run all over us and our personal space. We decided that we have the right to live in peace and to have a minimal amount of privacy.

So, what were the words? "Peace, prosperity, and the pursuit of happiness"? F**K yes, that is what we fought and died for, over 200 years ago, and I will be damned if I will let that essential freedom go by the wayside because I want to make my neighbor happy. I lived in my truck for four months, I lived in restuarant hell for as long, and another eight months to pay my dues to get to the point where I can save a little money. I have been here, in paradise, for almost two years, and I am finally making do.

The American dream is not that you come to this country and people fall over themselves to make you rich. The American Dream is that if you come here, and you work hard and smart, you can make a life for your CHILDREN. Not necessarily for your spoiled-ass self. DO SOMETHING FOR SOMEONE OTHER THAN YOUR self!

Wow.

Life is not about you. It isn't about ME. It is about taking care of others. Being a man means being a husband... helping something, or someone grow. Ask yourself who you feed. And please be honest with your answer. If you lie, you cheat yourself.

I may be totally off base here, but I think this is what my forefathers had in mind. I have never felt so american in my life, even though I have lived here all of my life. We made this country by making friends with others. Why do we now try so hard to exclude them?

P.S. the photo is of my favorite gay bar. Don't hate anyone.

Monday equals Friday for me

I have been in the buisness for 13 years now, and I think it is starting to affect my personality. Tonight I noticed that I compulsively made sure everything on the tables in my section was exactly the same, and perfectly positioned (emphasis on the word "compulsively")...

When I came home, I had a new roommate; a roughly 22 year old italian guy, who left his toiletries and personal items ALL over the bathroom. After I noted to my two questionable roommates that "this isn't going to work...", I tidied up a bit...

No one yelled at me, but the kid was sleeping.

I am also tuned-in to people's emotional responses like I haven't been since I was a helpless seven year old trying to cope with my mother's new gigantic husband who happened to have kind of an ugly problem with anger and control.

He is my brother's father, and maybe he is okay now, but honestly, I realy don't care to know. Let the dead stay dead. And rest in peace.

I noticed my personality change when I confronted my current roomate about his illeagal drug use. I gave ten years of my life to that bitch, and I refuse to have her anywhere near me again, in any form. I actually said "you'd better watch your fucking ass". I laugh at myself now, but I was, and am, totally serious. I'm not going back there ever again.

So I am finally relaxing. It is 2:30, and I plan to put my truck back together tomorrow afternoon. One 7/16 inch bolt stands between me and putting her back together. I'm buying a nutcracker for $11.99 in the morning, and that baby is comming off.

This is a long term project, but it is in progress. Someone told me she read my blog, from the beginning, that she is up to the point where I got my good job... and she liked it.

I do remember my opening prayer, and I continue to write with the hope that it will help, just a little, someone who finds themselves where I was a year and a half ago. It is kind of like the ship's journal of those poor guys who made it through an antartic winter on a sailboat a couple of hundred years ago. Sort of, but not quite...

Just met a guy who's from lower manhatten, currently doing lighting and sound for the local theater... life goes on, right?

Don't waste it.

We come in to this world alone, and we leave this world alone. What lies between those two events is your lifetime.

You are alone... now and forever. Friendship is a very nice buffer, but it changes nothing. No one lives your life but you... make it notable. Make it worthwhile. I suppose the next thing to say is carpe diem. Sieze the day.

Sieze the moment. They slip away so fast. Jackson Brown says that "in the end, it is just the blink of an eye", and I believe him. Things just go by faster and faster. When I was young, I thought I was faster than everything... now, I see that acceleration and velocity are an illusion. Truth exists only in the definition of x.

I'm depressed tonight. No worries, it happens. You can't have happy without sad. Yin and Yang. Make a cocoon and take a break. Every little thing gonna be alright. Talk soon :)

No picture tonight

It wouldn't be pretty. I just had a minor blowout. My apartment is a pig sty. I took the dirty dishes out of the sink and stacked them in the corner until whoever dirtied them can find the time to wash them. I took the disgusting garbage pail outside until I can wash it and put in a plastic liner. The trash on the counters, I threw away. The towel on the floor, I put by the door, in case any one wants to rescue it before it goes in the garbage. I put the plastic cup of soap in the bathroom and the dental picks in the medicine cabinet, I sanitized the sink, put the hair bands in the medicine cabinet, and threw away the hanger that had been straightened out and was being used as a crack pipe pusher. If you don't know what that is, believe me, you don't want to know. I also tossed the ashtray that was sitting on the toilet tank onto the stack of dirty dishes.

I was not quiet while I did all this. One of my roommates, the one who really shouldn't be there because he hasn't paid rent... was trying to sleep. I let him know, in no uncertain terms, that the place was gross, and while I will do some cleaning, I expect him to clean after himself. He replied that he doesn't live there. I told him, "then get the fuck out". He laughed. I told him that I appreciated him cleaning after I moved in, and that I would be speaking to our other roommate, who as far as I have seen, has done nothing more than take the trash out one time, in the morning. Then I went out for a beer, and to write.

I went to the miami boat show today. I bought a two day ticket, and attended four seminars. It was very cool, and very informative. I decided to not go tomorrow, to sleep in instead, and go again on Monday. I need to rest, so I can make money Saturday night, and a double on Sunday, and I don't have to be at work until 6 Monday. That will give me time tomorrow to get a pair of visegrips to remove the nut I stripped while I was disassembling the front of my truck engine last Wednesday, and play with reformatting the hard drive of my laptop, after I have slept in til 10 and probably finished the latest spy novel I've been reading. Oh yeah, and to tell my other roommate to start improving his hygene...

I'm tired, but I feel good. I don't have to live in a disgusting apartment. The other guy set the rules... we have the right to criticize infringements on our personal space. And leaving the bathroom and the kitchen disgusting definitely infringes on my space. I haven't even thought about cooking in that place yet, and you know how I love to cook. This isn't going to work, and since I am the only one working, I figure I have a little clout.

That's all I have to say tonight. Sorry about the missing picture, maybe I will post one next time of a beautiful sailboat that I could never in my life have. Or maybe it will be a picture of a clean apartment, or a beautiful sunset that I can have almost anytime I want it.

Life is good, stay tuned...

A "cockeral" is a baby rooster... I think

I have been married and divorced two times. I don't know if I will try it a third time, but at the moment there is only one person I would consider, and she is on the distant horizon. Not that I am much of a catch, ask my ex-wives.

I live in miami beach. South Beach, actually. This morning as I was doing my daily errands, I passed this cockeral (baby rooster chick... I think) on the sidewalk in a residential area. It is the first living poultry I have ever seen on the beach. When I lived in West Miami, 17 or so years ago, the roosters would wake me up... and that was in a nice suburban area, but never here on the beach. It crossed my mind that south beach, or sobe for short, is a very unique place, and I struggled with the right words to describe it.

The best I've come up with so far is that it is a confluence (a comming together) of first, second, and third worlds. What makes sobe unique from New York, and I assume L.A. and other major metropolitan areas, is that it is too small for there to be distinct burroughs or barios, and it is just barely big enough for there to be neighborhoods.

As a consequence, people from all over the world live right next to each other and pass each other in the street often enough to recognize each other. In New York, I loved to sit somewhere, anywhere, but especially around mid-town. I would watch a couple thousand people pass in about thirty minutes, and I recognized that there was a very high probability that I would never ever see any one of those people again in my entire life.

Here, you know the "mentally-challenged" homeless people, sometimes by name or by nickname. You watch them go through their up's and down's, and believe me, there are more crazy people here than you can shake a stick at. But there are also very cool, very gentle people. Artists, tradesmen, merchants, musicians, and one or two representatives of the people who aren't career politicians. And you might walk right by their sidewalk cafe table and never realize who you just passed. Or, you might see them over and over, and eventually find an excuse to meet and become life-long friends. Some of my very best life-long friends are people I met here.

Another consequence, and I have talked about this before, is that because we are so heterogeneous, the residents (not necessarily the visitors) have developed extreme tolerance and respect for cultural differences. Instead of saying "you're in america, speak english", they try to learn the essential words to communicate in as many languages as they can. In fact, in my experience, it is the immigrants who have come here and learned english who are the most indignant when someone demands that you speak spanish, or italian. To their credit, the french try very hard to speak english, and they often are very pleased when you try to speak to them in their own language. Of course, you have to say right off the bat that you really don't know how to speak their language. And come to think of it, most people from latin countries and even from italy, warm to the same approach. That said, I will repeat that there are cool people of all colors in all races, and there are also assholes of all colors in all races.

I am not a catch because I live on the fringes of society, often with little or no money. I have gotten used to it, and I have come to trust my higher power to always take care of me as long as I do my best to take care of myself. Don't buy stuff you don't need, don't waste what you have, and never, ever, buy on credit. Read my blog from the beginning, and I hope you will see many examples.

I live on the fringe because I like it, it keeps me alive, and alert, and almost always grateful. In my first marriage, in my 20's, I "fell asleep". I developed a routine that I was comfortable with, I used my awareness to head off any threats to my comfortable routine, and I followed my habits, even down to sex, to the point where years passed without me really noticing. I woke up when I realized my wife had fallen in love with another man, and no matter how much she regretted it and didn't want to hurt me, she was no longer mine, her heart belonged to him. (By her choice, and I bear her no grudge. It was the event that threw my life into turmoil and allowed me to finally, I hope, have awakened in my late forties to what a beautiful thing my life really is.)

My second wife was not capable of loving me. It wasn't necessarily a fault in her, it was simply a folie a deux (as my last therapist described it). But I loved her, and I was willing to blunt my needs for passion with some serious IV cocaine abuse. Eventually, I left (it was either leave or kill myself by overdose), but then cocaine became my significant other. It took me ten long years to finally drop that woman.

My former roommate and dear friend who gave me a place to recover, and allowed me to take care of her life for six months while she came from "illegal" to "being processed" will remain a friend for life. We have disengaged to the point of mutual comfort and agreement. We live seperately, but we see each other often. We were never meant to be lovers, we never tried it, and we have both become strong enough on our own to remain very good friends. It was "by chance" that we met, but I don't believe in coincidence.

Finally, the woman who was the catalyst for me to transform my existenct from being a functioning but stalled addict, back to being a dependable and productive, goal-oriented, able to plan and move forward through intermediate goals person, was my soulmate. She is the woman on the horizon. She is doing the same thing with her life, but she has a husband and children of her own, making things a couple orders of magnitude more complicated and difficult.

Women, women, women... it's biology, man. Continuation of the species. I can't speak to homosexuality, but to me it is as normal and natural as heterosexuality. If homosexuals dominated the planet, we wouldn't have to worry about the population explosion, we would be a much more loving and tolerant society, and we would probably all be healthier and dress better. Unfortunately, I just can't get my head around kissing a man. I like women. That's my flavor, and everyone is entitled to their own personal flavor.

So, first, second, and third worlds... we all live here together. We all get stressed and become irritable sometimes. The people I like, and who I keep close to me, get over it and apologize. They respond to a smile and a hug, and I have been both the giver and the reciever several times in the last year and a half that I have been home. This is my home. Until I get my boat this summer and sail further south to probably less forgiving and more nationalist peoples. Everything happens the way it is supposed to. I am still in training. More of an internship really, because I do get the chance to help people along my way.

Be real, be happy, have fun, and don't fall asleep. Oh, and I miss my guitar so much. Maybe soon... :)

Happy trails to you, until we meet again...

Welp, two days at my new digs, and I'm back to work. Tonight it rained like it was summer time. Tropical. Fortunately, I had the inside station, so I made a little money. I was the only one though. Sometimes you're lucky, sometimes you're not. Who said chance favors the prepared mind?

I am sharing a studio with two guys I met two days ago when I moved in. They are both kids; twenties, both are unemployed, both, I think, smoke pot but nothing else. No problems so far. I had a misunderstanding this afternoon with one of them, but I think it's cool now. I think he's hatian (he speaks french, and doesn't understand me when I talk too fast... we didn't have the sit-down over heinekens). He was about to shower, I said I needed the shower soon to go to work. He thought I meant now, but I wasn't going to be ready for 10 min. or so. He didn't understand that I was fine with him showering first, (my failure to communicate), and after I finished my phone call and he got out of the shower, he was pissed that I ignored his gesture of politeness. My bad, sorry about that, when you first begin to live with people you have to expect to bump into each other and accidentally step on a toe or two until you learn how your new roommates function. Still, I'm not ready yet to bring any valuables here.

My former roommate and very good friend and I spent a lot of time together over my two days off. We needed to clear the air between us. She cried twice because she thinks she has put me in a bad sittuation. I tried very hard to make her understand that this is exactly where I want to be. No, I don't recommend this to the average viewer... don't try this at home... but look at my situation. I have a great job where I am making good money all year. I am making almost as much as I did as an hotel operations manager. My truck loan is paid off, I can cover all of my bills now (including rent) in about a week and a half. These guys can stay or leave, I don't care. I have a place to live where it is dry, a marginal kitchen, relatively clean, and I can walk to work in less time than it takes to smoke one cigarette. Six months, and I will have my boat, if not before. I can drink now, keep my beers in the refridgerator, and now that I can, maybe I won't.

I need to start exercising again. I miss my guitar. Everything is going to be just fine, and I am in a happy space while my life sorts itself out. Time for bed. Tomorrow is my Monday, where I cram five shifts into three days. Monday is my Friday. Tuesday is my weekend. One thing at a time, one day at a time, and everything really does work out, because I have some Good Orderly Direction... figure that one out.

One day past the full moon

Well, here I am in my new place. It feels weird, of course. I slept in the same bed for a year and a half, and despite the drama and the constant change, it was always the same bed.

Tonight I will sleep in a new bed, with no Billy the jack russel to snuggle with me. I miss him, and I know he is sad without me.

My friend and I had dinner tonight after I moved out. It was a shock to suddenly be seperate, and I think we both needed to reaffirm our friendship. We have been an odd couple for the last two years, almost. Seperating, I think, will preserve our friendship. If we had continued to live together we would eventually have ended up hating each other. This way we can still be friends.

My new roommates seem okay. They are just kids, we'll see what happens.

I guess I don't have anything to say tonight. I am in a new space, my life has just taken a turn, and I am busy living it. Everything gonna be alright, for sure. My soulmate didn't call me today, but I know she's on her way back to me. I don't feel it, but I am willing to believe it.

Guess I'm just checking in tonight. Tune in again tomrrow... same bat-time, same bat-channel... and be good to yourself and those close to you.

Go slow, and pay for your parking.

Good advice, I think. I'm still trying to learn the subtlties of this rule.

It is time to restart my blog for real! Tomorrow I leave the nest I've lived in for the last 15 months, and strike out on my own again on my quest for the liveaboard sailboat that will carry me on my first circumnavigation! This is an augural event. Go slow, and pay as you go are my watch words.

My roommate is almost four months out of detention now. She has almost completely recovered from the trauma. She has finally kicked me out for real, and I am so pleased.

She has taken back control of her life, and has found sources of support other than me. She and I are really good friends, and totally incompatible as partners. She is an artist. Her medium is the physical; color, form, fung shue. I am an artist. My medium is words, images, function below form. She is a chic Parisian lesbian mother of two beautiful young men. I am a single buddhist soldier, forever loving Jah. She is always cool, I am always the same. You get the picture.

Man, when god moves, he moves. He tells me I am on the right track by manifesting exactly the right number of knives and forks for the roll-ups that are my daily side-work (100 forks, 50 knives, 50 napkins). I grab a handful of each out of the drawer and start rolling. Imagine how it feels 15 minutes later when I have a stack of 50 roll ups infront of me, and no excess anything!?! That happens a lot.

Some people feel god when they find dimes, I feel god when curious combinations of random numbers suddenly come together to equal zero, null, or one, unity.

Today I paid my rent, no deposit, all included, to live in a large studio apartment, with two other men that I don't know, for one month. One block from my job, no lease, and half what I have been paying for the last 15 months. Woohoo! Alright, so I have to live with a couple stinky guys, who may or may not have good character, but hey, I lived in my truck for four months. I went through basic training and was in the army (national guard) for six YEARS. I can handle six months in a crowded, but cush studio with 100 free tv channels, and free wifi access. Piece of cake. I can stand on my head for six months.

I just met my new roommates this morning when I picked up my keys. They seem ok. A little sketchy, but I won't be bringing any valuables, and some of my closest friends in georgia were homeless crackheads. So I figure tomorrow after I move in, I'll buy a 12-pack of heineken, and we will get to know each other and set some boundaries. Seriously, this place is an extended-stay hostel, and they are both unemployed. So if they have no fortitude, I will be the old guy with a couple newbys in a month. If they happen to be able to stick it out that long, we will probably become lifelong friends.

My roommate and I are "parting" friends. I am going to give her a little money every month to keep my parking space at her apartment. She has told me I can leave some things inside her apartment, and I really hope to have dinner with her and our slovak friend after I have moved out, and she has moved in. I'm telling you, god has got it ALL under control, and everything will work out just fine if you can check your ego, and make amends for the mistakes that you will inevitably make.

I am FINALLY in the position that I wanted to be in, a year and a half ago, when I moved down here; I have a super-cheap, but livable place to stay, I have a kick-ass job that I love, and I am making bank every week. There are boats-a-plenty around here, cheap. I think I am about 90 miles from Bimini, about three hours, by car, from Key West. I have almost zero commitments, besides my job, my integrity, and my friends.

It is 07 Feb 2012, the high today was about 78, the low will be about 69, Farenheit. I am 48 years old, I have a soulmate who may come back to me at about the same time I get my boat. (I received an email from her right after I started this posting... Thank you, God!!). And I have a loving, generous higher power who takes care of me in very small, and very BIG ways.

I'm not practising my guitar at the moment because I need to unlearn my bad habits before I start to take lessons. Guitar stays here until I can trust my new roommates.

I almost got involved in the re-election campaign of my friend, the mayor of South Miami (I'm so proud of him), before my truck had a catastrophic failure. But no worries, I have the means to fix it next week. My future's so bright, I gotta wear shades!

I think that's it for tonight. I thought this would be a short post, but I find that I still have so much left to talk about. I have one beer left that I need to drink while winding down, so I can sleep tonight, so I can move out tomorrow, so I can buy my boat, so I can have a new nest when my baby finally comes back to me, so we can drink frozen daquries at sunset in Martinique at sunset three years from this very moment... I can go to sleep with that thought.

Stay tuned blogland, the best is yet to come :)