In this TEDMed talk from a few years ago, Lloyd Pendlton explains how Salt Lake City, and the state of Utah, used the Housing First and Harm Reduction models, to reduce its chronic homeless population by 91% over ten years. He also explains how his understanding of the homeless issue, and homeless people, changed during that time. Most importantly, he explains the importance of trust in dealing with homeless people. This is the best video I've seen on dealing with homelessness in today's world.
Part of the change in thinking about homelessness in the last 25 years or so came from a Malcolm Gladwell article called "Million Dollar Murray." Here's a quick video explaining that idea.
"Million Dollar Murray" was first an article by Malcolm Gladwell that appeared in the New Yorker (February 13, 2006), and later was repreinted in his book, What the Dog Saw: And Other Adventures. That's a collection of Gladwell's articles from the New Yorker, that was published in 2009. I read the story in that book several years ago.
So... The backpack I bought in Palmdale in May of 2019 was getting pretty worn out. OK, that's the understatement of the year. It was pretty much obliterated, but still getting me by day to day. I definitely got my $7 worth out of this pack. I bought it used in Palmdale at a Goodwill, over three years ago. By the time Covid hit in early 2020, zippers were beginning to pop, but it was still usable. This was it today, as I finally retired it. I seriously wanted to burn it in a little ceremony, but lighting fires on the streets tends to be frowned upon.
Both straps were hand knotted to keep them working, all zippers were broken, but it was still functioning day to day. The buckle straps on the outside kept it going.
It wasn't like I didn't try to get a new one. But I'm cheap AF, and I usually try to find a good quality backpack at either a swap meet, Goodwill, or Salvation Army. There are no good swap meets in The Valley that I know of. Every time I had some money to buy a new pack, I couldn't find a decent one in a thrift store. So this old pack just kept getting sketchier and sketchier. I had resigned myself to saving up $70-$80 and buying a good quality one at a camping store when I could.
While being homeless is a situation where people always think cheap products are fine, in reality, backpacks, coats, and sleeping bags really get a workout. Having basic items you can rely on means a lot. I mean, when's the last time you went camping for 1,200 days straight? Honestly, outdoor equipment companies really should give some product to homeless people for R&D and testing purposes. We put that stuff through hell.
In any case, I started talking to a couple women from one of the homeless organizations, and they told me they had a backpack I could have today. I told them I'm REAL picky on backpacks, and I blow through backpacks like a NASCAR driver blows through fenders. I carry a lot of stuff daily, I needed an outside strap for my blanket (strapped to side, in trash bag), and I need lots of pockets to keep different things handy. A few people have offered me packs, but none that would do what I needed. So I always politetly declined. These ladies today had a pack that fit the bill, so I'm stylin' again in the backpack department. Thanks a ton ladies. I'm stoked on the new pack, and hope it's up to the challenge. While my old pack seems like a champ for its durability, it's not my personal record holder. In 2007, I bought a backpack for $4 at Orange Coast College swap meet, and used that crazy little pack until the summer of 2018. This old pack above ranks #2 in my backpack durability archives.
The new pack looks and feels good, so I hope it lasts until I can get a roof over my head, and work on making an actual living again. Onward!
In the small town of Willard, Ohio, in about 1979, my 8th grade music teacher, Mrs. Essex, introduced us kids to the rock opera "Tommy," by The Who. I loved it, even though I wasn't really into hard rock then. That was a brave act by Mrs Essex at the time, in conservative, small town Ohio, and I appluad her for it. It opened me, and others, up to a lot of great music. This is the best known single from that 1969 double album, "Pinball Wizard." "Homeless Pinball" is what I call it when homeless people are forced out of a spot, and bounce around from one place ot another.
Don't you hate it when a complete stranger walks into your house and says, "Hey, we're demolishing this place tomorrow, so you have to get your shit out." No, you don't hate it, because that doesn't happen to average people. "This is America!" you shout, "they can't do that here!" OK, I won't get into eminent domain, that's not the point of this post. The point is, if you live in a house or apartment, whether you own it or rent it, strangers don't come in a tell you to get out with a few hours, or a day's notice.
Even if you are behind on rent, or haven't paid your property taxes in years, a government official doesn't just walk in one day and say, "You gotta get out." There's a process, we have a reasonably functional rule of law in this country, even now. Yes, there is institutional racism, sexism, and other "isms" at work in our legal system. But compared to most of the world, we have a functional rule of law, and there is a process for evicting a person, foreclosing on a mortgage, and getting people out of houses they aren't paying for. That process has many steps, and it can take months or years to get someone out. That's one of the securities of living in the United States of America.
But not when you're homeless. It doesn't matter of you are homeless because your house burned down a month ago, or because you're a lifelong, degenerate crackhead. When you are homeless, you make your "home" on somebody else's property, either private property, or government property. That's because every single piece of land is someone else's property.
At some point, when a homeless person camps out- ANYWHERE- someone in the area, or the property owner, gets sick of you being there. You could be on a vacant, overgrown lot that no one ever paid attention to, but as soon as homeless people camp there, it's suddenly a national monument in that neighborhood. It's like George Washington took a leak there in 1783 or something, the land is suddenly sacred, once a bum pitches a tent there. "They need to leave!" some neighbor shouts, then they try to rally others.
This is happening, right now, as I type this, at the place I've been sleeping at, for the last six months. I started sleeping there when I spent 5 days with Covid-19 in January, so I could be close to a restroom and a mini mart, to buy water and Gatorade to get through that illness. For the record, I got both Pfizer vaccines, and I think it helped me get over Covid quicker.
There were two of us sleeping along the side of this building then. Then three. Then five. That number has gone up and down since, as a handful of neighbors have pulled every string they could to get us out. Recently friends of one of the people started hanging out, smoking meth (which I don't do, see my last post). Someone even hired a regional gangbanger to phyiscally threaten us a couple of weeks ago. This kind of stuff happens on a regular basis, all over, in cities everywhere.
Yesterday a guy I'd never seen before walked up to us and said that they would be powerwashing the sidewalk, on both sides of the street, this morning, and that we had to move everything. I said, "I'll be gone." I moved to another spot last night. The others will do the same. I call this "Homeless Pinball." Nobody will go very far. They just wind up in another spot nearby, but out of sight of one group of local renters.
A couple people might get taken to "housing," which your tax dollars pay for, by the way. Just for the record, housing, eventually, puts homeless people in long term places, usually ghetto apartments, and your tax dollars go to a bunch of ghetto landlords to pay their rent. Maybe you're cool with that. Personally, I'm not. Almost no one who goes into homeless "housing" gets a good paying job and rents their own apartment again. Ever. "Housing" is your tax dollars (and inflation dollars) paying the rent for thousands of homeless people, indefinitely. Keep that in mind.
But most of the people moving from my old spot today, and the others getting moved out of other spots, simply move to another piece of land, usually within a few hundred yards. Sometimes people just move across a city line into the next town, which is what I did. There is no legal process, we have no recourse about getting forced out of a spot with little or no notice. We repeatedly lost much or all of what little we own. No one cares. Homeless people get "bounced" around areas like pinballs in a pinball game. That's why I call it Homeless Pinball. It's a short term solution to a long term problem, which keeps getting bigger.
As a society, we don't want ot actually house all the down and out people, that's obvious with a trip through any major city. As this blog goes on, I'll look at some of the ideas for dealing with homeless people, and give my thoughts on what works and doesn't work with the various programs. I'll even write about my best ideas on how to deal with homelessness, at some point. Meanwhile, the homeless population will keep growing, because it's not just an addiction or mental health issue, it's a long term demographics issue in the U.S. and Western society, at this point.
The powerwashing today will move the 7 or 8 people out of that 50 foot stretch of sidewalk. Within a week, they will start being replaced by even sketchier homeless people, the full blown, hardcore tweeker and crackhead, walking zombie types. And the people of this neighborhood will be pissed off again. Bing-bing-bing... us bums just keep bouncing around. Inflation and this recession we're sliding into will add to the numbers. Anybody up for actual solutions yet? No? I didn't think so. Maybe someday...
Blogger's note- 8/9/2022- The sidewalk I wrote about above did get a much needed powerwashing, and most of the people moved across the street. No one went to housing. Most of the people who have been frequenting this area are still there. Meanwhile, L.A. city council just passed ordinance 41.18 last week, which outlaws "sitting, sleeping, or camping" in many of the places homeless people traditionally camp to keep out of the way. The ordinance is incredibly vague in some of its language. More on that later. The drama continues. But, the sidewalk is much cleaner. If any city people are reading this, the bus stop around the corner could really use a powerwashing.
The sidewalk I mentioned, right after the powerwashing, much cleaner now. My photo.
Maybe I should have dressed as a minion for this one. Back in 2007 or so, funny signs worked a lot better than they do now. After the "Ten Year Plan to End Homelessness" in 2002-2014 or so, there are several times more visible homeless people, and people are sick of seeing us everywhere. I get that. Some people still give to panhandlers, just a smaller percentage of people. When you think about it, panhandling is really just crowdfunding survival, whatever survival entails at the time. #SEstreetlife
I had this idea in my head, but never bothered making the sign. Then I walked up to a ramp last year, and this four foot long piece of cardboard, with handholds built in, was sitting there. I had to try it. I held it for two or three groups of cars, and didn't get any money. I just wanted to say I flew this sign. A buck or two every 3-6 groups of cars is about normal these days. I memorized how to spell antidisestablishmentarianism in 6th grade, to intimidate other kids before the city spelling bee.
Just for the record, I won, 6th grade city champ for Willard, Ohio, 1977? But I cheated. It was actually a 50 word written test, held in the Willard Junior High library. I got 49 of the 50 words right. One of the words was "ancient," and it was on a sign nearby, touting the Dewey Decimal System. I would have missed it, and there would have been a three way tie for first, if the sign hadn't been there. Lesson: Winning a contest doesn't mean that much, there's usually cheating somewhere in the system, in pretty much everything.
I flew this sign back East, where we had to sign up and get a permit, and then could panhandle "legally." Panhandling is constitutionally protected free speech (as long as the Constitution holds up), but the location you stand can be trespassing, at times. The permits back east pretty much just kept black guys from flying signs, due to excessive criminal records. But few of them ever flew signs, anyhow.
Just think about it...
This one is good more for crazy looks than money. Sometimes you just have to entertain yourself while flying a sign.
This is what most people think, no matter what your situation really is. I've actually met two homeless guys in SoCal whose homes were flooded and destroyed in Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. They came to Cali looking for work, and couldn't find any right away (2007-8). It doesn't matter, you walk out on a ramp with a sign, and most people just think, "lazy bum." #SEstreetlife, #steveemigphotos
I was walking along the trails on the Manchester district (south) side of the James River in Richmond, Virginia, when I saw this great blue heron in a tiny stream on the other side of the trail. Spring of 2019. #SEstreetlife, #steveemigphotos
This is one of the two best coyote photos I've managed to get with the old iPhone 5. Coyotes are hard to get pics of, without a really good zoom lense. I've seen them a few dozen times while homeless, starting in 2002 in Huntington Beach. This one was a weird looking coyote, it looked like it may have had some shepherd in it. It returned around dawn, after coming by in the wee hours of the morning. L.A. county, not far from Universal Studios area, 2021.
Because of past flooding issues, there are some gigantic flood walls next to the James River in Richmond, VA. For a while, I walked to a bus stop every morning, right by the Manchester Bridge. There's a cool lookout place on top of the wall there, and vultures sometimes congregate there in the mornings. Black vulture atop the retianing wall early one morning, spring 2019.
There are pigeons all over cities in the U.S. This one had a missing foot, so I nicknamed him Ahab. He (or she?) used to show up nearly every morning, at a bus bench, where I ate breakfast a lot. Studio City, CA, 2021.
A different coyote from the one above, but in the same area. Roaming and scavenging late at night, just over the hill from Hollywood. It may be hard ot believe, but there are at least a couple of mountain lions, bobcats, deer, and coyotes in the Santa Monica mountains, the big hills where the Hollywood sign, Beverly Hills, and many other upscale areas are located. The small mountain range is completely surrounded by urban areas, but some large mammals call it home. #SEstreetlife, #steveemigphotos
If you look close, there's a fence lizard, half on the concrete strip, below the bush. I saw this lizard while wandering around the Newport Beach art park, along Avocado Street, in Newport Beach. When I first landed back in Orange County, in the summer of 2019, I stayed in this area for a while. The art park, which included Bunnyhenge, is a cool place to wander around, and to take photos.
In addition to these creatures, I've see raccoons, opossums, skunks, mule deer, whitetail deer, a wild turkey, many coyotes, a bobcat, 3 mountain lions (maybe same one, three times), eastern box turtles, whiptail lizards, a nutria, a 7 to 8 foot python (released pet, most likely), gopher snakes, ospreys, bald eagles, a sphinx moth, great horned owls, a barn owl, burrowing owls, green herons, night herons, great egrets, snowy egrets, a southern pacific rattlesnake, a California thrasher (it's a bird, not Duane Peters, though I have seen him while I've been homeless, too), and many kinds of ducks and shorebirds.
Above, someone doesn't like art, or at least street art. Obey poster in The Valley, 2021. #SEstreetlife, #steveemigphotos. Below, a job offer? Hmmmmm. Sticker on a highly stickered taco stand in Costa Mesa in 2019.
Above, this so reminds me of high school in Boise in the 80's. Her name is Becky (seen on another sticker of her), and she's drinking out of the paper bag, Generation X style. On a sign in the Universal City area, 2020. Below, wider shot of that sign.
mAbove, homeless amputee veteran on his power chair, charging his cell phone at one of the Red Line train platforms during the Covid shutdowns. I was there charging my devices as well. At that particular spot, we often had to hang out while people smoked meth or crack on the bench, while we were charging. Most or all of these charging outlets have since been plated over, making it much harder for homeless people to charge their phones. This particular spot, in Hollywood, was used by dozens of people every day.
Heroin addict sleeping standing up at a bus stop. I was sitting there eating my breakfast, as I often did at the time. This guy wavered back and forth, mostly asleep, without falling over, for at least 20 minutes. I had to ask other homeless people how tis happened, later on. They told me that heroin addicts sometimes can literally fall asleep standing up, and somehow not fall over. 2021. #SEstreetlife, #steveemigphotos
Aawww... the gently falling snow looks so beautiful in this photo, doesn't it? I was sitting in the snack bar of a nice, warm, Target store when I shot this photo, in December of 2018. This is Richmond, Virginia, on West Broad Street, near Libbie, the west side of the city. The lame part of this photo is that I was homeless, and when Target closed three hours early, because of the snow, I had to go outside for the night.
I hiked through 4-5 inches of snow, while it was still coming down hard, to my sleeping spot, about 100 yards away. I slept on this tiny little porch of an abandoned Bar-B-Q restaurant, that's it in this photo. There was a tiny area, then three steps down. I had two sleeping bags, two moving blankets, and 5 or 6 layers of cardboard boxes underneath me for insulation.
The snow kept falling well into the night. It wasn't a super cold night, it was about 25 degrees, I think. I've survived two or three nights in the 11 to 12 degree range, two in Virginia and one in North Carolina, in a tent. That's a few degrees warmer than the freezer in your refrigerator. Imagine craling into your freezer, and spending the night. Yeah, not fun.
Unfortunately, my shoes and feet got all wet from walking through the snow. I spent 17 1/2 hours huddled in this little area freezing my ass off, with bare feet, under my pile of blankets. Then I had to put my wet shoes on my bare feet, and hike to a CVS, hoping they would be open. The fast food places I usually went in the mornings didn't open, because Richmond isn't used to big snowstorms. So I hiked up to CVS, hoping they would be open, with my bare feet, in wet, frozen shoes, and marched right into their restroom. I dried my shoes and warmed up with the hand dryers for about 20 minutes. Then I caught a bus to the library, I think, to warm up for the day.
Later that afternoon, I went back to my usual McDonald's. This is the patio of Mickey D's, and you can see the 10-11 inches of snow from the storm piled up on the benches. Homeless life isn't all glamor. Heh, heh. Shit, it isn't glamorous at all. Dealing with rain and snow while homeless fucking sucks balls. Big fucking donkey balls. Big fucking donkey balls with festering, oozing green sores. I mean it REALLY sucks. It's fucking miserable in the winter. Cold rainy days between 35 and 40 degrees are actually the worst, dealing with 25 degrees and snow is actually a little easier. But 17 1/2 hours outside in 25 degrees and 10-11 inches of snow was a rough night. I wasn't sure I was going to survive. I just tried not to freak out, and stay as quiet and warm as possible. The abandoned restaurant has been torn down, and is now a Chase bank, I just checked the place on Google Maps. It's right by the farthest west Pulse bus stop.
This is the time and temperature sign right by the McDonald's I went to nearly every morning, while I stayed on that little porch in the winter of 2018-19. This wasn't the day of the snowstorm, just one of the many mornings that were well below freezing. In times like that, you just try to stay alive day after day, hoping life will get better somewhere down the road. This is why I don't bitch about the occasional 35-40 degree nights in L.A. (not very much, I still bitch sometimes). #SEstreetlife, #steveemigphotos
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