Grandma Ginnie

My grandmother made me cry today. She told me that when I was about two weeks old she was babysitting me while my parents went to the footbal game. It must have been just after homecomming. My dad was studying engineering, my mom, I think, was supporting him. She told me that she said to me then that she would always be there for me. She is 92 now, I am 47, and she has definitely always been there for me.

So my grandmother is very old now. I talk to her every week or two. She doesn't know how to use the internet, so she can't read my blog. Most of her children have visited her since I started it, and there is internet access where she lives. Probably she just doesn't want to learn how to use the internet. Maybe it is something she is afraid will make her want to stay alive longer. Maybe there is another reason, I don't know. Her family loves her, and she deserves their love. But I told her I would print out a hardcopy and mail it to her so she can read it. I told her it would be my birthday present to her. I hope it doesn't give her a heart attack... just kidding, I know it won't.

She was the one who gave me my wonderlust. When I was around 11 or 12, she gave me her French grammar book. It made me want to go to France. She has always been a bit of a rebel, and I know it is her fault that I questioned authority. She will secretly love reading it. Thank you, Grandma Ginnie.

Sold over $400 today. Was actually chilly last night, and had to cover myself with a towel. Its the weekend again, so I will be in my friend's parking space where it is warmer, and there are more mosquitos. I can't wait until all those little buggers die. Will keep a blanket handy, just in case.

Going to enjoy happy hour with Scott now. Thought I'd give you a picture of my bus stop. Must tell you about Edwin, the host at my restuarant. Another beautiful soul... another time.

I sttand corrected

She is not black, she is a mix of black and white. To the blacks, she is white. To the whites, she is black. It is important to her. To me, she is just beautiful.

Pigeons

I have a very good friend here. This is the woman who let's me park in her parking space on weekends, and when it is raining. She would be fine with me parking there all the time. She let's me brew coffee in her apartment if I want in the morning, and she continues to insist that I use her shower, even though I don't.  She says she has no car, she doesn't pay for the water, and the electricity to run the coffemaker is pennys.

She has two sons. 13 and 19. She is French, black, and lesbian. She has made me a part of her family despite my lack of money, my unusual lifestyle, and my reluctance to be tied to anyone. Her boys are beautiful. The oldest is clearly a good man. The youngest is gentle and polite, except when he wants to go to the beach in a tropical storm, and he has to do his homework instead. But he did it, and he got to go to the beach. The three of them were a sight, comming back at night, soaked, with huge grins. I was writing my blog in the bed of my truck.

She married this guy so she could get permanent residence. I did the same thing a long time ago, except I was in love. Actually, I've met him, and I think he is in love. As much as he's able to be. I've actually met him several times, and I can't help wondering why she would let him be part of her life. Women, I have learned, will do crazy things if they think it will benefit their children.

All this really is neither here nor there. I am writing about it because I was sitting at my favorite sidewalk pizza place having a slice, when he approached me and put a newspaper infront of me. He said this is what he has been going through, and still is. It was a copy of the most recent New Times, the local rag. The article was about how he got ripped off for about five months by a restuaranteur and a landlord. I couldn't help wondering why he let it go five months, and why he was surprised that people wanted to take his money from him.

But I was also bothered by him passing by. He passed by my friend's apartment yesterday too while I was having a cup of coffee on her porch. Then he sent her 19 text messages over two hours. This woman is my friend. This man is a stalker, a liar, stupid, and who knows what else.

So what is this all about? I have a lovely friend who I admire and respect. She is sufferring the consequences of a poor choice. Her poor choice has decided he needs to figure out what part I play in his life. I want no part of his life. But I am also not about to abandon my friend. This is how things begin. New people come in to my life, they bring their stuff, I bring mine.

I sold $400 today, and had no bartender,and no busboy, so I get to keep all my tips. Atleast I'd better. One day after Nicole and the skys are clear, the breeze is cool. I haven't been exercising enough, and I continue to smoke. There's more going on there to explore.

I'm going to try to attach a copy of the article, if you're interested, and I had a really good time sharing my pizza with a pigeon. Stay happy, what else would you want to be?

http://www.miaminewtimes.com/2010-09-30/news/starlite-cafe-employees-cry-scam/

Who'll stop the rain?

I don't know if it ever became Nicole, but a tropical system has dumped water on Miami Beach all day long. The owners closed the restuarant, which is good; I was taking the day off anyway. I slept more than an hour later, and it was sooo nice.

I started the day thinking about how I have been focused on survival for so long, and now I know I will survive no matter what... god willing, and the creek don't rise. I flirted with getting melancholy and depressed earlier, and realized that those feelings are a luxury. You can't spend the time being depressed when you are scrambling to make sure you can eat tonight. But now that I know I will live for as long as god wills it, I start to think about how will I get my sailboat. Will I get my sailboat? Will I EVER get my sailboat?

And I begin to apply the very serious, in-my-face, lesson that I have just learned about food, wine, and cigarettes, to my sailboat. Believing something is one thing, KNOWING it is another. Once in an AA meeting, this old, cantancerous alcoholic with about a hundred years of sobriety told me that god knows what I need before I do. So if I know I will eat today, tomorrow, and the next day because I get what I need, is it such a leap to believe that if I need a sailboat, I will have one? And because things happen when they are supposed to ($30 yesterday, 10 minutes before I needed it) is it so hard to believe that when it's time for the sailboat, one will appear?

When I decided to stay in Miami Beach, I surrendered control of my life. What would happen if everyone just stopped doing what people told them they were supposed to do, and started doing what they felt they were meant to do? Can you imagine? Anarchy. The world banking system would collapse, stock markets would go crazy.... but you know what? I would bet my bottom dollar that plants would continue to grow, and people would continue to harvest them, and sell them. Trade would continue, and because some people love to fly airplanes, I would also bet that the world could continue as it is for the most part.

There would be some glitches. Who are the most dissatisfied people you know? Fast food workers and DMV staff for me. So we would lose Big Macs and lisence plates. Hmm...

Ok, I know I've gone off a little here, but it was to emphasize a point. If you don't like what you are doing, change it! If you leap, a net will appear. Trust me, I know, I did it. But let me make this clear, each of us has our own lessons to learn. Are you ready to start learning? Can you take the first step, whatever that is?

I am sitting in the bed of my truck in a parking space that someone else pays for, riding out a tropical storm. You decide how far you are willing to go to live as you believe you are meant to. For me, I bet my life on my faith, and it has only grown stronger.

I was depressed for most of my life. I think I was supposed to meet Scott, and I am supposed to do this walk. I disrupted the sleep of many of the people who are now reading this blog when I thought killing myself was a good idea. If I had a sailboat now, I might be in Jamaica instead of reconnecting with Scott, and with an organization that makes sense, on the surface atleast. We will see... it doesn't end until you die I think... I hope. If I can help someone who is thinking about sticking their head in an oven after they've spent every last penny they have on drugs for one last good high, then I am happy to wait a little while for my sailboat.

Clear skys, and cool breezes...

Tropical Storm Nicole

My sales are still good, even though Tropical Storm #16 (soon to be Tropical Depression Nicole) put a crimp in things today. The owners are being nice to me now, and frankly, it creeps me out. Tomorrow the prospective buyers are supposed to come to the restuarant for a sit-down. Everyone keep your fingers crossed...

T.S. 16 had me a little down earlier. My friend's parking space is only partially covered, so even if I park there, I will still have to sleep in the cab. But, if I back in, I can open up two windows that should stay sheltered, thus allowing some fresh air. Soon, maybe I will buy a tarp and play with rigging it for bad weather. I just really don't feel like it tonight. Did my laundry, paid a parking ticket, sent off payment for my storage, and right now I just want to enjoy a couple happy hour beers with plenty of reggae.

A couple postings ago I said something about people getting in their own way. That the universe unfolds exactly as it should, and you get what you need when you don't want what you haven't got. I don't know, that happens to me a lot. Today I had to pay a parking ticket because tomorrow it becomes 30 days old, and instead of costing $18, it would cost $45. But the place closes at 4:00, the same time my shift ends. The owner told me it closes at 5:00, but I knew he was lying to get me to stay until 4:00. I told him I needed to leave at 3:00, and I needed my tips before that. He owed me enough to pay the ticket, but I didn't have enough cash to pay it.

Around 1:00, a couple came in looking for the owners. They were French, and they came to have lunch with the owners. Uh-oh, when these people eat they don't want to be interrupted, and they take hours. At 2:30, the plates had been cleared, but they were still sitting, and I didn't have my tips. 2:45, they get up and start to tour the restuarant. I have to run around to get them the keys to the rooftop lounge so they can see that while I am finishing up my couple remaining tables. I've had $1 in cash over tips today, and it is 2:55. I'm getting a little frustrated, but I figure things work out.

The French guy comes walking up to me, hand outstreched, gives me $20. The two top who I gave directions to the clerks office so they can get married leave me another $10. I tell them I might see them there because I have to pay a ticket, all my tables are closed, I'm out the door at 3:10. Got to the post office and sent my payment, made it to the clerk's office before 4:00. Didn't see my newlyweds. Now I'm having happy hours beers, listening to Ziggy Marley, and talking to my favorite Israeli bartender.

Life is good, and things always work out if you let them. Nevermind about keeping your fingers crossed.

Blessings

Well, the next morning I appologized to the owner. She didn't know what I was talking about. I have seen this before; selective memory, and it always kinda astounds me. I mean, we were both there, but we remember totally different things.

We kicked butt at the restuarant this weekend. Came close to exceding the dinner sales with our breakfast and lunch sales. Remember, my average check is probably about $25. At dinner, an average check is $50-100. For breakfast and lunch sales to beat dinner says either breakfast and lunch are great, dinner is horrible, or a little of both.

Things are still really messed up, but they are getting better. I am still hoping for a buy-out, but in the mean time I am making progress with the way things are.

Things here are different. I have good friends, my work sucks, but I enjoy the challenge. Buckaroo Bonzai said "no matter where you go, there you are", but what he didn't say is that different places reflect you differently. Some say that others are mirrors; that people resopond to what you present. But they are carnival mirrors, because how someone responds to you is distorted by their own essence. Really, that makes life beautiful; understanding yourself and others by how you reflect each other. I can think of my life as a sort of big collage of interactions.

I have lived in several different places. In the Keys, New York, and Miami Beach, I have felt most at home. People in these places are more crazy, and therefore more accepting of variance. In Indiana, Pennsylvania, and Georgia, people seem to value conformity and are mistrustful of people who behave differently. In those places, I feel like an outsider, here, I feel normal. So even though I am the same person no matter where I go, in some places I am loved more. And that makes all the difference.

In AA they talk about geographic therapy. Alcoholics, and anyone who is a bit off, really, will move around a lot. If you go to Indiana and Miami Beach, and you have the same problems, probably god is trying to teach you something.

I think god is trying to teach me something now. I feel distracted while I write. I met a guy here at the hostel when I was staying here. We connected over coffee and cigarettes early in the morning. I could tell he had stuff going on, and I sure did too. He is a photographer, and I've continued to run in to him. A couple days ago he gave me his card, and I checked out his website. Turns out his 19 year old son killed himself just four months before we met. His website is awesome, www.ipanemic.com. , I am still exploring it. There is a benefit walk for a suicide prevention group in October, and he is a team captain. I signed up. Never done that before, but I set a fundraising goal of $500. I would really like to double that, so expect to hear about this again when I learn a little more. In the meantime, check out his website. I hope it comes across as a link. His name is Scott, and I believe in him. It never fails that when I feel like my problems are overwhelming, I meet someone who has it worse.

Not that I feel overwhelmed, quite the opposite. I wake up every morning and thank god for blessing me.

ignorance sucks

I didn't buy any fruit again today, but I did change a couple things. I prettied up the tables a little with bread plates and glasses, and I made the menu/food display and the entrance a little more aesthetically pleasing. I doubled my sales.

I expected the owner to come in and make me put everything back the way it was. She came, she asked who did it, I said I did, she said "gud idea, eet looks much better". The host and I exchanged looks, and both wondered out loud if she was sick or had a fever.

Unfortunately, any ground I may have gained, I think I lost double by confronting their racism and managerial deficiencies. We got tripple sat, no problem, except that before I could turn around, the bartender had one of the tables, and the host had another. I got the six-top, they got a three-, and a two-. Mine and the bartender's three-top were black. The three-top that the bartender took, while he wasn't making my drinks, turned into a very bad mess. They ended up walking out.

The owner said to me that it is always with black customers that we have problems. I told her, no, that they were black wasn't the problem, the problem was she told the bartender to take the table, and he doesn't know how to serve. He needs to make drinks,and let me serve the tables, but that's just what I think. She said she thinks it was because they were black. I told her that was her problem...oops.

I almost walked out. But my table, really cool people, had a very large tab, and they ended up over-tipping me a lot. One of them asked if I would be her server for her wedding reception if she booked our private room. They really warmed my heart, and softened the anger I was feeling.

I realized as I left the restuarant that I needed to think about how I could help them overcome their racism. Afterall, racism really is just ignorance. I didn't really like black people much until I fell in love with one. I was upfront with my soulmate about my prejudice, and also I tried to learn a little more about her culture. Now, I can't say I am a negrophile (?, like anglophile), but I have a lot of respect for american blacks. Like gays, jews, and homeless people, they have had to come to terms with a white, christian, middle-class, heterosexual majority. I'm not going to tell you what I like about american black culture because I want to challenge you. If you are white and uncomfortable with blacks, find out for yourself. If you are going to be prejudiced, make sure it is out of knowledge of who you don't like, not out of ignorance.

I think that's all I have to say about that.