On The Road With Al And Ivy: A Literary Homeless Chronicle - Aug. 10, 2023

Update: On The Road With Al & Ivy: The Anthology Vol. 1 (2016-2018). Work on the revised Second Edition due out in 2024 and upcoming excerpts on X in my X (aka Twitter) Subscription Section. 

When On The Road With Al & Ivy Vol 1 was published, it was made clear that it was a compilation of Blog entries that were sometimes written weeks apart. 

In other words, it was a collection of writings during the period that showed my state of mind and what I saw but wasn't a chronological narrative.

I did say that the second edition would incorporate other written entries from social media and GoFundMe entries, which would fill in the gaps between the blog entries and provide a sense of what daily life was like for a homeless person. That took a while to collect.

I began work on the newly revised eBook last month but have decided that it would be interesting and fun to do it as Kindle Vella style in episodes in the X Subscriber Section. Some of the first completed pieces will be run on my regular X timeline for free.

One reason is that there are different ways to incorporate the additional material, and I'd like to try a format that combines the original text with commentary. I hadn't intended to add the latter but reader comments for the current eBook show that continuity is a concern, and after reflection, I've realized that they're right.

The format will be simple; the original text with the date and then commentary to add details and context. If it relates to a blog entry in the eBook, I'll add the reference to look it up on KU.

These pieces, which will be in the revised eBook, will have the working title of On The Road With Al & Ivy: The Journal Entries, and I'll use the current book cover as the attached pic.

That might seem like a lot of preliminary detail, but I've set my subscription timeline to show a preview of each item. Having descriptive and standard titles lets those checking out these entries better understand what's there.

The first couple of entries are below with cropped images of the social media entries which should be interesting reading with the commentary.

I think it is relevant also, as the homeless problem seems to have gotten worse, not better, and the discussion in the media has moved more towards depicting people experiencing homelessness as a single entity or headline. 

My book was intended to be "a face," and I think adding detail will make it more so. The body of data could use more "ordinary" stories to give the problem a more human face.

There's a lot of homeless struggling to survive, not just waiting around for help or taking drugs, and while not entirely overlooked, most of the attention is on the media images.

The eBook is still on KU and can be read for free by members. I'll try to schedule a free week soon, also.

- Al Handa

X: @alhanda (Boogie Underground Media)

On The Road With Al & Ivy: The Journal Entries (2016-2018)

Introduction:

The Journal Entries begin on June 25, 2016. The format will have the actual post as an attachment, and each will have commentary for extra detail and context. The title and book cover used are for this series. The cover will actually be a new design when it officially comes out as the Second Edition.

The posts were on Facebook or GoFundMe, but I've removed the headings. Each has the date in large red text so I could recognize each image in the various apps used To edit. There’ll be some redacting in future posts for legal reasons.

The first entry is short and almost innocuous because I was in shock and reluctant to talk about my situation. 

I became homeless in March, and the money had run out after a few months. A lot of things had happened, and by this date was suffering occasional hallucinations from sleep deprivation, so I was cautious in tone and trying not to come off as unhinged or panicked in my post.

The car had just died the night before, and the best advice I got from the other homeless was that replacing it was a good thing to try first since it used an electronic key. 

The reference to "3.7 miles" was the walking distance to the Cadillac dealership, and my statement about walking two miles a day wasn't about simply wanting to stay in shape. My prescription for high blood pressure meds had run out a month earlier, and the only thing I could think of to replace it in the short term was to exercise every day. 

I had to carry Ivy for most of the two-mile distance because the average temperature in that area was 90 degrees. She couldn't walk further than a hundred yards in that heat. It was hard carrying a twelve-pound dog and backpack, but I figured the more strenuous the workout, the better.

The reference to UB40, specifically the one led by Ali Campbell, is because the admins of their fan site saw my posts and urged fans to support me. Also, my thanks to Twitter (and Facebook) users were because they, many of whom still follow my account, were helping the best they could.

Without that support, I'm unsure how things would have gone two weeks after my situation became critical. By the time of the first blog entry (in the eBook) on July 30, I was stuck on a side street with a dead car.

On June 25, I had a car that had just stopped running, and I didn't know if the problem was severe. After observing the homeless scene for a few months, I knew my situation would worsen without a running car, which it did by the next post on June 30.

- Al Handa 

Note: These entries are working up towards the first chapter in the eBook "On The Road With Al & Ivy: The Anthology Vol. 1 (2016-2018) on Kindle Unlimited," which begins on July 30, 2016. I'll run at least three before the series moves into the Subscription section. Also, some of the incidents I’m describing are alluded to in the novel version on Kindle Vella.

On The Road With Al & Ivy: The Journal Entries (2016-2018): June 30, 2016 (2nd of 3)

Note: These pieces are part of the Second Edition of "On The Road With Al & Ivy: The Anthology Vol. 1 (2016-2018)," due in 2024, and are published here under the working title of The Journal Entries. There's a complete explanation of the project in an early posting.

Intro to June 30 Entry:

This is the second installment of three that'll be published on this timeline. After the third, the series will continue in the Subscription section.

The Entry is an attached image file like before. What follows here is my commentary.

June 30 was a good day with some hope. I was hired for a job on the night shift, which made it possible to safely leave Ivy alone in the car (with other homeless in vehicles keeping an eye on her). I thought that it was a good first step, and it was.

Note: I've redacted the business name and will do it on any word or term that would identify it or the exact location of these incidents.

I didn't realize that several other homeless around me already worked in retail, some for years, and didn't earn enough to get into an apartment because of the low vacancy rate and the real estate boom in this region. 

Even more importantly, I didn't realize that even if the Night Manager knew I was homeless, that didn't mean upper management would treat me differently.

What I found out later was almost all of the others who worked had to keep their situation a secret. Many had been fired from previous jobs as soon as it became known or soon after. The usual perception is that many companies are eager to hire people experiencing homelessness. It's more complicated than that.

I would soon find out that the official company policy of being accepting of people without housing didn't mean much to the upper management of this business, but that will be covered in later Journal entries.

The last sentence was the actual situation; buying a new key didn't work. That meant that the problem could be the electronic ignition, which, even on an old Cadillac, was costly to replace.

The Entry was short because the car wasn't running. There was no way to recharge the old iPhone used to type out these entries (my phone was smaller and only turned on if I needed to make a call). Donations had come in, but other than some food for Ivy and me, I didn't dare spend it because there was a future repair bill that would possibly be a lot more than I had at the time.

However, on this day, getting any job was good news. The effect of even a little hope couldn't be underestimated. It was devastating when things completely fell apart over the following two weeks, but hope kept me mentally strong enough not to give up because of days like this, I could tell myself that wins were still possible.

That doesn't mean there was a Hollywood-style scene where I stood up and shouted to the Heavens that the fight wasn't over yet. By the following Journal entry in July, it was evident that I was in profound trouble.

- Al Handa

   August 4, 2023

On The Road With Al & Ivy Short Take: Great Chapters In Literature: Marcel Proust's Overture from "Swann's Way."

If you want an example of a writer that A.I. would find nearly impossible to duplicate, it would be Marcel Proust. The first chapter feels like he drew random thoughts or subjects out of a hat and then wrote a chapter that connected those in an interesting stream of consciousness that, as rambling as it might seem, gives the reader a clear sense of his personality. 

The opening "Overture" walks a thin line between flightiness and nailing the feat of putting on paper the moment-to-moment images and thoughts of a human mind.

Most psychological novels are highly structured, with well-constructed observations that are insightful, but it's not how the mind works as one's senses move from one stimulus to the next. Literature can be the product of input and reactions laid out and organized with reflection, observations, and context added later in the first written draft. 

That doesn't mean Proust didn't add reflective passages or philosophical observations to his book; it's just that he didn't write the chapter as a structured piece like Joyce's "Ulysses" (which was a different type of work even if both were psychological).

A man who sees a woman walk by isn't necessarily going to contemplate the complexities of the species' survival. He might add a meditative passage later in a WIP that adds detail to that brief glimpse, but that's not how our minds work in real-time.

My first reaction to this chapter was amazement at his imagination until I realized that it was an actual train of thought and not a virtuoso assembling of imagery. We're used to books that describe elaborate internal dialogues (which, of course, can happen in spurts in everyday life) but rarely one where the observations and thoughts are genuinely unfiltered. Proust may think differently, but his mind works pretty much like anyone else's.

His best quality, besides genius, is honesty. By that, I don't mean it's full of juicy confessions but that he's willing to be quite ordinary, following a path that includes the trivial and banal. As a result, the passages seem to have more life and vivacity, which is also a credit to the translator, C. K. Scott Moncrie.

It was very much a chapter written by a human being.

- Al HANDA

On The Road With Al & Ivy Mini-Blog: Thoughts about A.I. generated books.

I was reading an article about the flood of A.I.-generated books on Amazon K.U. and how those are reducing the KNEP payout for legitimate authors. One writer quoted an "expert" who said authors would leave in droves unless Amazon handles the situation.

No, they won't leave in droves.

Kindle Unlimited is an ecosystem that too many writers depend on for income and, just as important, the opportunity to get published works in front of an established audience. 

Until somebody comes along and gives authors the same market and access, K.U. is it, and it's better to root for Amazon to try to fix an unprecedented situation than just get all butt hurt and threaten to leave.

In my eyes, these stories are just part of the obsessive hype about A.I. which ignores the real issues that could kill off K.U. and make people leave; rampant piracy and plagiarism.

A.I.-generated books are, at least at the moment,  an automated form of plagiarism by people who would otherwise steal by other methods. Even the writers claiming it's just an experiment or exploring the new tech know that the algorithm gets its material by scraping published work. 

Those who claim it's just a new technology like the printing press aren't real artists. The printing press revolutionized distribution like the internet has, but you still had to compose a work.

There is a place for A.I. in writing, particularly in genres like nonfiction articles or news, where recycling and borrowing is standard practice. I've seen the same Beatles or Led Zeppelin articles for decades.

Also, news organizations specializing in quickly whipping up pieces on trending people and events will embrace A.I. if they haven't already. There'll be the problem of the tech being used to generate a flood of articles to manipulate trends, but that's only a concern for those who are discerning about their clickbait reading.

One thing that might eventually happen; A.I. bots will be required to generate a bibliography on any nonfiction work.

As far as novelists are concerned, A.I. will initially rip a lot of people off. The fact that Amazon can't control it isn't necessarily due to a lack of caring but because of the overwhelming number of people using bots to create instant books.

The problem of A.I. books will be an ongoing battle. Just right now, technology has shifted the balance of those manipulating the system. That won't last forever, though.

However, as long as society tolerates cheating and winning at all costs, the best that can be achieved is a reasonable level of deterrence.

I must add A.I. tech is being pushed downwards, not up. In other words, even the conflict between content providers and A.I. firms isn't about the individual contributors who often work for free. It's a fight between management teams who may not care if A.I. replaces people. 

There is nuance. A.I. will be like most tech innovations; people won't have much choice. It'll become a fact of life, so areas will evolve where it's an accepted tool. Since users won't have any sense of history, somebody will eventually publish a work that plagiarizes someone famous or who has the means to sue, which'll help move copyright law into the next era. Lawsuits probably create more change than legislators.

An author putting out an A.I. generated book might make money on it but will have to become a shadowy figure constantly changing identities to evade TOS enforcement.

I can't imagine a real writer would want that kind of literary career. For sure, some won't care as long as they make money, and in the United States, there'll be those who admire such unprincipled behavior.

Even a hundred years from now, a person who uses A I. to generate a whole book isn't going to be called an artist or writer. That title is still going to mean something even then.

On The Road With Al & Ivy: Excerpt from August 2020.

Note: I've begun editing a Vol. 2 of the Blog Compilation. This one will contain edited and revised versions of all of the literary essays on this blog site from around 2020 to the present. Here's a revised and edited intro to one about childhood.

Childhood is seen as a time of innocence, but kids often spend it lying, cheating, stealing, and inflicting pain on each other; while parents do their best to contain such impulses until adulthood when there's a time and place for everything. 

It's a time for learning about your place in the world. Look at any toy section, and it's evident that sexual roles are defined early on, and as our perception of the world becomes more mature, we realize the world seems to teach ideals and symbols but not reality. Living happily ever after becomes women doing the cooking on Super Bowl Sunday and men getting to fart anytime they want (which is oversimplifying for the sake of pacing, but within the minimum standard for truth on the Internet).

A child's world, created from curiosity and imagination, is often seen as a transitional phase before assuming the adult mantles of responsibility, conformity, and money-grubbing. Luckily, the grown-up world also teaches ambiguity and hypocrisy to help reconcile virtue and the real world.

If your sense of curiosity survives into adulthood, it becomes a search for truth, and any subsequent disillusionment is just a temporary phase in the discovery process. 

Studying history is the passion that guided my life's journey, from the shiny symbols of childhood to real life, from sacred truths to ambiguity.

It's not easy for children to conceptualize the idea of the past, which is filtered by adults deciding what's suitable for young minds. They avoid violent or erotic content (except in video games and cable TV) or explaining which political party is associated with Satan. Such matters are considered too advanced, so instead, we're taught about stuff like dinosaurs, a politically neutral subject that doesn't need to be taught with any accuracy.

That's as far as it went until I could at least read a comic book, which by fate was the old Classics Illustrated series, which transitioned my love of history into the world of literature, albeit with a lot of pictures and very little text.

The first inspirational book was Church's version of Homer for children. I checked it out so often from the school library that the librarian hid it to ensure others could enjoy it until she realized I was the only kid who read it.

I didn't check it out so often because the book was so good, but because, at first, I couldn't understand it. It was above my reading level. It was a process of enjoying the illustrations at first, then gradually being able to read them later. I realized that illiteracy locked the door to this exciting world, so improving my reading skills became a priority. 

I was eventually able to read three or four grades above my level. I could have cared less about it (as an achievement) except that it finally made old historical classics available to me and, with it, a fuller view of the world.

August 2020 Entry

ontheroadwithalandivy.blogspot.com/2020/08/on-roa…

On The Road With Al & Ivy Mini Blog: Announcing The New Subscription Section on X

I'm happy to announce that the Subscriber Timeline on X is now running. As promised in the earlier announcement, I won't constantly pester everyone to buy a subscription, but a description is necessary.

The rate is set at .99 cents a month, which is paid through the Google Play store and Apple. The nice thing is that you can buy a monthly subscription or, if you like the content, stay on as a regular subscriber. It's up to you.

I hope and will deeply appreciate it if X users try it for at least a month or two and see if it's worth staying on. 

What delayed everything was I couldn't see what the Subscriber TL looked like until it was approved. Once I saw it, it was like the regular free stream of tweets in chronological order. Thinking about how the premium content could be loaded took a little time.

Rather than load all the material in at once, I've decided to tweet it at regular intervals with standard headings so it's obvious which are blog tweets and other stuff like the serial fiction. I intend to load new content at least five days a week.

As of now, it's mainly two features; the edited essays that will be in a future eBook "On The Road With Al & Ivy: The Literary Essays (2018-2020), and around four of my current Kindle Vella books, which can be published elsewhere as long as it's not free. The monthly fee makes it premium.

By August, there'll also be audio and video features loaded.

The Literary Essays will be from the Blog entries during the two years of 2018-2020. The original format was like a magazine, but such issues won't work as chapters like the current eBook On The Road With Al & Ivy Vol. 1. 

The Blog became eclectic, so it'll be more readable as discreet pieces and not huge 4500-word essays. Each entry has a clear title and description of the topic(s) covered.

The Vella Serial book chapters will be loaded regularly until each is complete. One reason for including these is that most who read the chapters preferred it not to be in Vella, and secondly, these stories were only available in the U.S. 

The latter is a big deal as some of my oldest Twitter friends are from overseas, and it was frustrating that they couldn't read my serials.

The initial serials will be "I, Ivy," "Queen Khleopahtra," and "Knee Deep In Glory" (which will be loaded best chapters first as it's not chronological).

I picked the three that were the least linear and were written in such a way that one could read the episodes out of order, like a regular situation comedy or cartoon.

I'll add more next month, but some of the serials will be taken off Vella and published for free in the regular Twitter timeline. Ones like "The Lost Gospels Of Murgahtroyd" and "Boogie Underground Think-Tank" were formerly regular blog features, so they are being made free again.

I'll post regular updates on what's being loaded into the subscription section, so if you don't subscribe now, maybe something will come up that'll make it worth trying it out.

I'm sure you've all seen how richer the content on my account has become after moving the On The Road With Al & Ivy blog here. That won't change. I want this account to be one everyone wants to follow and enjoy.

The Subscriber Section is an enhancement but also an attempt to make this feature-laden account sustainable, so I hope you'll try it.

Even if you don't, I'll appreciate all support via retweets and word of mouth.

On The Road With Al & Ivy: A Literary Homeless Chronicle - 2/20/2018

Johnson at last, of his own accord, allowed very great merit to the inventory of articles found in the pocket of the Man Mountain, particularly the description of his watch, which it was conjectured was his God; as he consulted it upon all occasions.

- James Boswell (Boswell's Life Of Johnson)

One of my favorite movies is "Jeramiah Johnson," a film that starred Robert Redford, about a civil war vet who became a famous mountain man.

The film has many of the elements that Americans love; the wily old sage and a varied cast of oddball characters whose paths cross throughout the film. Those meetings at various times in Jeremiah's new life become a barometer of his progress as a mountain man.

It also illustrates a concept that many Americans love, particularly in the Internet age; the notion that one can become a master with a few choice secrets from an expert that opens the door to mastery.

Americans love "experts," who are as exalted as priests were in the medieval age, able to dispense certainty and illumination with a few heavy duty words. Perfect in the timed segment environment of cable TV and click traps.

The concept of endless and boring toil to attain mastery is really more of an Eastern thing. Westerners like to have it all appear like magic after a little practice, or even better, as a result of a monetary purchase.

For example, Jeremiah is taught how to use the smoldering coals of a fire as a heating pad to sleep in the snow. Sure, he screws it up the first time, but sleeps like a baby the next night.

Some people will miss the fact that living out there was also an exercise in sheer endurance (and boredom), which is passed over and covered up by movie transition fade ins and outs of the seasons, which to the mountain men showed the passage of time.

In the era of instant gratification, people might not like to see that sort of aimless poking around because it involves time spent devoid of joys and grandeur, that dreaded dead time which so many expend a great deal of energy and resources to keep at arms length.

People will switch to a diversion to keep the mind occupied to avoid a nonproductive state of do nothingness due to ingrained go get 'em Puritanical attitudes. Even those who realize the benefits of down time often feel the need to dress it up as meditation or even better, something that involves spending money (which absolves all such indolent sin).

A salient sensation experienced out there in the homeless world is feeling like the world is spinning along without you. All those people going about their lives while I just stood there and watched. It wasn't quite like being off the merry go round of life, but that the normal measure of time, hours and minutes had become irrelevant.

...hitting the undo button...

One valuable lesson that Jeremiah learned was that it was more about unlearnng things more than picking up new tricks.

When looking at the homeless, there's a tendency to see it as a single image, or emotion. It's the media driven thing, that there's a single defining picture or truth to any issue which can be defined at soundbyte length. That's an efficient way to generate clicks or sell ads, but it's just another form of profiling that can unfairly type a person or group.

A man eating out of a garbage can is one such image and there's a variety of reactions one can feel to such a sight ranging from disgust to pity, but rarely an attempt to see the "story."

There's always a story.

In one instance the guy was in fact being fed by the other homeless around him. He wouldn't accept a direct handout, so they left food in the can. Once I realized that, I began to leave food in the can too.

You'd be surprised how often food, water, or even small amounts of cash was shared out there. Most importantly, help was always given without a lecture or comment.

An outsider could see that as enabling or even silly, but in that world, it's a form of tolerance and acceptance...respectable society will punish, pity, judge, or treat it as a matter as an illness requiring treatment (if they bother to) and those judgments are all valid on some level or another...but at that moment, there, the only help coming is from others like him, and given with an acceptance that can only be understood in that world. A parochial one for sure, but a real world for sure.

...recycling...

I cover the subject of scavengers in the book, which is a wider subculture than a single shock image of a starving man fishing for food. Scrounging out there was a complex subject and was as involved as nature's system of scavengers.

Dumpster diving, for example, was truly a desperate act in earlier eras when people didn't waste things, and garbage was really garbage. The modern era is different. Throwing out trash is very much about discarding anything that doesn't please in the moment or draw admiration. 

Clothes out of style? Donate or dump the stuff.

Feeling full? Throw the rest of the fries into the garbage can.

Part broken on a device? Cheaper to replace.

Our garbage piles have created a subculture as active as ant colonies. One of my earliest lessons out there was stay away from the dumpsters. Most were secured by locks, but regularly broken into, so that hanging around in those areas could get me in trouble with either the various urban recyclers (who could get territorial) or businesses calling the police to keep the areas clear.

Some dumpster areas were as busy as Walmarts on Black Friday.

I won't detail all the various scrounging subcultures here, that's all going to be in the book, but suffice to say that I found that more than a few of the various low rent recycling strategies were worth observing and tucking away in the brain for later use in case life went further south. It was an unlikely validation of the basic survival instinct, and how "life finds a way."

Jeremiah found that survival was all about learning as you go, and if you learn faster than nature punishes stupidity, then you might just get by.

“See, Winter comes, to rule the varied years, Sullen and sad, with all his rising train; Vapors, and clouds, and storms.”

—Thomson. From The Pioneers by James Fenimore Cooper

One of the first things that crossed my mind when seeing snow for the first time in twenty years was that homeless life would have been very different here in the Midwest. There's no way I could have lived in a car in below zero weather.

That doesn't mean it wasn't cold in California.

Midwesterners like to joke about the wimpy winters out west, but in a couple of areas that I slept in, the temp dropped into the high 20s. That's not a big deal if there's a warm home waiting for you at the end of the work day.

It is if a car is your bedroom.

Most people think of their cars as a temperature controlled environment that the heater makes nice and toasty, and that's how the early evening can feel. If the car's been running, the engine block will be hot and that keeps the temperature inside from dropping too quickly. Then the car cools down, and that mass of steel and plastic becomes as cold as the outside air. 

You'll notice it trying to sleep for the first time in a car, and waking up in the middle of the night as chilled as an ice cube. It's not easy making adjustments to get warm in darkness, even with a flashlight. A smart person will realize that it's best to treat it like camping, with everything needed at hand, and not like being in a bedroom with stuff scattered all about.

It was like camping, but only sort of...I had to balance safety with comfort.

The best way to stay warm is to use a sleeping bag and have bottom insulation like a yoga mat, but that's not a good idea in a high crime area. If you get car jacked, and I was in some areas where it was common, you won't be given a chance to get dressed, or much time to collect yourself if your car gets picked for redistribution.

You also want to be able to move on ASAP before the police arrive if some trouble erupts during the night. My SOP was to head off to another city if there was a ruckus. That might seem extreme, but if the police, who normally don't bother homeless go active, then it's best not to be around if what's going on is really part of a sweep or crackdown that started earlier in the week.

I always slept fully clothed. I preferred sandals, so that made things easier, at least in the summer. If it was a quiet area, I'd use a sleeping bag, but used it more like a throw or cover. Most nights it'd just be my trusty old down jacket and a travel pillow. Dressing in warm street clothes to sleep also made it more comfortable in the morning, when it was generally the coldest.

Some car homeless would try stuff like running the car as much as possible to keep the heater going, or drinking a lot of booze or coffee. One guy fell asleep while running the engine and almost burned the car up after idling for four hours. Also, it's no fun trying to walk to a bathroom at 2AM when it's a toasty (by midwestern standards) 40 degrees outside. Never mind if it's raining too.

In my book, I talk about the "cold," but not in terms of the temperature. It didn't matter if it was 30 or 40 degrees, it was more about how long the chill lasted.

I didn't think much in terms of night and day, but warm and cold.

The cold period started around ten at night, and it was going to be coldest around the time I had to be up, which was around seven in the morning. That was the latest I dared to sleep; any later and you could get caught in a sweep by police or store management (if in a parking lot). Most mornings I was well on my way by six.

People joke about how tough having to get up in the morning is, but not me. I looked forward to it. I could drive the car to an area where the sun was shining which continued the process of warming the car up that the heater started. If I could afford a cup of coffee, then it was a relatively pleasant hour or so wait for the sun to reach a good height. If not, I just bundled up a bit longer.

Cold that you can't get away from feels colder, but there was a bright side; in some of the areas I had to sleep, it was a good feeling waking up because it meant that you were still alive and hadn't been robbed or jacked.

Ivy rarely saw any of this morning routine, as she was a late riser and rarely up before nine. Which meant that I didn't have to take her outside till the sun had warmed the place up a bit...small mercies loom large when you can see your breath in a cloud in front of the steering wheel.

Ill on a journey 
All about the dreary fields 
Fly my broken dreams

- Haiku by Matsuo Bashō (1644–1694)

...it doesn't cost a dime to dream...part one of a series of ruminations about dreams...

One of the elements dealt with in detail in my book are dreams.

My concept of dreams evolved out there, and moved away from the usual image of a destination or attainment in the future to a more nuanced realization that one can accidentally confuse hopes, which are aspirations, with wishes, which can become a passive state of waiting for better luck or a rescue.

First off, living in a car means that the supreme hope, the American Dream, isn't happening and it's time to move on to the various lower level consolations reserved for losers in the Capitalist game.

In other words, the "better luck next time," "you can still do it," "nice try guy," and other opium of the masses stuff the 1% hope will keep the masses from turning their guns into tools for social equality, come to view soon after you begin waking up to a steering wheel in your face.

Dreaming about bigger things like stardom or riches are just parlor games for those who can afford one or a million big screen TVs...for me, it was about survival...maybe till opportunity knocked again, but certainly survival.

Yet at some point, in my case, after a few months out there, dreams did become part of the picture. It's important to have an image involving betterment there in place, and it isn't a trivial thing.

Without a dream, I could have been like some out there who thought that the predators were the only ones thriving out there, and joined them, or entered the comforting numbness of drugs. Both often looked like winners in that stark world.

One problem with the American dream is that it's becoming more about winning the lottery of life and becoming an alpha, above the concerns of the ordinary. You haven't become better, you've become better than others. Even worse is when it's tied in with the rescue fantasy, where a prince or some powerful person or organization delivers a wonderful (and wealthy) new life .

That's all OK of course. It's not illegal to aspire to become a jerk who thinks the people (or more specifically, customers) who made them a star are vermin to keep at arms length. In fact, it's not even unlawful to want to be a God with people laying at your feet giving you money and sex (many artists are guilty of this I imagine).

The problem is that such dreams aren't much help out there.

There's a saying I once heard, can't recall the source, that disillusionment precedes enlightenment, and it's very true. One of the main emotions one will feel out there is dispair, and it doesn't feel good.

I had to learn out there was that everything happening out there wasn't the same thing as failure, and everything didn't end just because my home was a car. Failure can feel like an emotion, but it's not.

What some consider a dream can really be a goal, or a wish. It can be about what a person thinks about their life, and reflect some unhappiness about it, or only be as realistic as a fairy tale.

A person who dreams of becoming a star can also be someone who not only hates being ordinary, but wants to be superior to others. That explains why some celebrities remain perfectly fine people, and others become overbearing swine. Success doesn't change people, it just makes some types of dreams possible, and that might include becoming a petty lord or duchess.

There'll be several smaller story lines in the book, threads tracing various dreams. Whether it was the drug dealer who thought he was just living a lowbrow version of the American Capitalist dream, or the young woman who didn't realize that she was desperately hoping for the Prince that her mom told her would come to rescue her, the subject of dreams was very much alive out there.

Alive, and helpful, and it could also brutally full of crap. If you could navigate through all the various dreams that we're taught growing up, and put it in true perspective, the way out of homelessness was there, clear as day.

My dream eventually became this picture I kept out there of myself that said none of what was going on around out there was me. I hadn't become a dealer, user, pimp, prostitute, useless this or that, gypsy, or whatever society said I was just because of membership in the homeless club.

One of my central dreams in the book is this image of me in the dark, under a light, and it shows me playing an instrument. Sometimes with a crowd, or a person, sometimes not. The music played varied in style, and rarely reflected my mood at the time. It was a mystery for quite a while.

I wrote a key passage in the "Autumn" chapter that describes that dream image and it was a picture that stayed more or less the same, but that my understanding of what it meant grew. At first it seemed like a vision of what the road out of homelessness was going to be.

As time passed, it really became a sort of mantra, a image of the self I protected, went back to when things seemed very dark and about how I thought I looked to others who were in the audience.

Some dreams are about becoming or getting something. Mine was about what I was, and that was worth a million dollars to me out there during a time when a fifty cent can of beans seemed like a feast. That simple meal didn't say anything more about me than a lobster tail dinner would have.

I knew that if I believed that, then time, my love or hate friend, was on my side.

- Al Handa

   Feb. 20, 2018

...cover reveal for Hide In Plain Sight...

This is the cover for the upcoming book, Hide In Plain Sight, hopefully out sometime in the summer of 2018.

-Al Handa

ontheroadwithalandivy@gmail.com

The Al & Ivy Homeless Literary Journal Archive:

The earliest entries were on the Delta Snake Review section of this blog site.
http://deltasnake.blogspot.com

On The Road With Al & Ivy: A Literary Homeless Chronicle - Jan 20th

 

"The mind is it's own place, and in itself

Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven."

- Milton (Paradise Lost)

"I live all the daytime

In faith and in might:

In holy rapture

I die every night."

- Novalis (Hymns To The Night)

Most people rarely see the night...in fact, if you you see it, it really isn't night...probably the false dawn of distant city lights or the poetic pale glow of moonlight.

Real night is pitch black, as in can't see your nose pitch black...most people have seen night in some form during a power failure...building or house going dark, street disappearing, something like that.

In a power failure, how dark it gets depends on where you are. In a small town, everything disappears as there's no other section of town that might be unaffected and give off a glow...the worst is in a storm; you leave a coffee house with it's emergency lights on, thankful that somebody in government could have cared less about the business world's gripe about over excess regulations and made sure every building has lights that go on after the power cuts out, and make your way to the car with umbrella closed as the wind's too gusty. 

Struggling with the old car lock and slippery keys, I hear the familiar complaints from Ivy about the delayed bathroom breaks.

I look at the driver side floor before entering...our tacit (thoigh grudging on my part) agreement is that's the bathroom if nature overcomes my little shih tzu's willpower...it's all clear and I make a mental note to double her night time supper ration in gratitude, even if that creates more problems later.

Ivy does let me know what degree of emergency it is...she hates rain too, so if a trip can be delayed, there's a low groan but she stems the flood by taking a nap...if she acts like a little child having to wait in line at a county fair outhouse, then I get the leash...we'll live in the present and deal with her smelling like wet hair later.

My fetish about flashlights began during my nine years of security work in the 80s...on graveyard, on isolated night watches, we'd discuss flashlights at length...The then new long handled Mag Lights were revered as the ultimate expression of maximum illumination and phony tough weaponry...a nightstick light just like the police had.

I preferred to be different, and constantly searched for the perfect small flashlight, though I briefly flirted with the night stick type by constructing my own with a paper towel tube, duct tape and the inerds of a nice flashlight that was accidentally broken when it fell two stories off a roof. Lasted over two weeks too.

Nowadays you can go to a hardware or sporting goods store and see a hundred different flashlights, perfect for any situation both real and imagined, and in a wonderful variety of colors and light type.

Back then, finding some exotic new type was like finding a first edition a John Steinbeck book in a thrift store...you bought it and decided if you actually liked it later.

 

I wisely took my flashlights with me when Ivy and I hit the road. My illumination kit wasn't extensive, due to the innervating effects of civilization, and a preference for guitars I rarely played, but pretty complete. 

There was a heavy duty tripod mounted LED light that could last 24 hours that I got as a gift, a small baton flood light and emergency flasher that replaced those roads flares that always ended up faded and useless (precursor of the military type that supposedly can blind an attacker), a small keychain type that has lasted forever, and another keychain light that could be recharged by turning a crank; which no longer works unless you keeps cranking it, but worth keeping as it'll always light up a place even if now requires both hands to use. I'd buy another one but it broke so soon, why waste money on another...the one I have is good as a last resort type thing. I also keep a small cheapie just in case, and it's used the most often to save the batteries on my heavy hitters.

I eagerly pull all of my hardware out in the pitch black car...time to get my money's worth...sure, you can use your phone, with that silly battery killing flashlight app, but Ivy needs to go out in that rain and I still need my iPhone to complete my book and my working phone can't be risked in a storm.

I chose the small floodlight for the task of escorting Ivy to a suitable dumping ground, and after returned to the comfort of a car lit up by the tripod light, set for max endurance as it's main task is to illuminate the rear area until Ivy goes to sleep...she's a few generations removed from her wild ancestors and will occasionally fall off the seats if it's too dark.

Making our way back to the sleeping area is tricky as cars are driving about and as usual, going too fast...headlights are less effective in a pitch dark storm so it's better to drive slow and take a back route away from the main stream of cars leaving the parking lots...my main concern is the highway 152 intersection, but the storm has a sobering effect on traffic and people go into uncontrolled intersection mode...when it's my turn I hold back and cross with another car beside me, motorcycle style, and get back to the side street that's my sleeping quarters without incident...cars are pulling over and maneuvering around so I park between an RV and a semi that's wisely keeping it's lights on, and until traffic clears, I do likewise...other homeless are arriving and many prefer to park between large vehicle so no point in being parked without lights, making the area look like an open space...it's worth a half gallon of gas to stay visible a while longer.

I turn on the tripod light again and get out my iPhone and kindle and begin my routine of reading and writing a bit before turning in...my flashlights are working fine and my former life as a gadget geek was validated by a mastery of the sudden descent of real night...

...being safe and the law...

There's no denying that the homeless life can be dangerous...the only thing that saves car homeless from being constantly carjacked is that we generally drive hopelessly bad cars...a carjacker might not be able to go further than a block or two due to mechanical failure or a chronically near empty gas tank.

Depends on the area; in some areas we're just the people in junkers out on the side street or far end of a parking lot, and in other areas like parts of San Francisco, we're often mistaken for middle class and subject to a smash and grab for our clothes, pets, or any object of value. I've never met a car homeless who's been to a place like San Francisco or Stockton and eagerly wanted to go back.

In warmer weather the homeless come out of the shelters and the local truckstop area and begin mingling with the RV and car homeless, and start camping out in the slough banks and tree lines...many would prefer to go back to the shelter at night but even the minimal supervision there has an inhibiting effect on social activities like drug taking...plus the summer brings the young users out to slum in camps and one can possibly get lucky with a pretty young thing if you're carrying.

It all may seem like a low rent Sumner Of Love, but it's a potential hotbed of trouble...when even a moderate number of drug users and parties begin to congregate they tend to think that by doing it behind the fence line it's a big secret...in reality the police know all about it and the patrols become more frequent and the informants are out and about.

Like any other activity involving humans, you get the cretins who get stoned in secret, forget caution, and come out to enjoy the high in the nearby streets and parking lots; plus there's the issue of finding more cash to keep that serotonin flowing...plus if you get very very lucky, most of the young women will insist that you do the exchange in a parking or or semi-public place and there's police and sheriff deputies out looking for that.

The smart homeless stay away from that, or if unavoidable, at least stay away from the inevitable routes of transit that spring up...it's nothing you'd see on a roadmap, but you learn that certain parking lot corners or breaks in the landscaping are in a direct line to the homeless camps and unless you want a constant stream of stoned people looking in the window it's best to park elsewhere.

In the areas I've been in, a car homeless is pretty safe, except from some of the mentally ill...as a rule, most homeless don't victimize other homeless...we're the most likely to help one another, and in an extreme, are regarded as people who have nothing to lose by retaliating...I'm careful to never provoke another, and if the person is stoned, nuts or being abusive, they're freely given their psychological victory over their retreating foe as I get the hell out of there.

If you're sleeping out in a car all night, yes, the odds go up for such things as car jacks, mugging and burglary...but one thing I've never seen, unlike the movies, is people coping with the risk by openly arming themselves or showing a macho attitude like in the movies...there are warriors out there and most won't last long, and like any other trouble, they're given a wide berth.

It's not that I don't believe in the concept of  law...but the law is a veneer or social construct doesn't really protect anybody...the whole idea of due process is to protect the defendant and that concept goes back to an earlier one, which was to protect people (mainly the nobility) from one of the main tools of a tyranny, which was using the justice system to eliminate enemies.

Poor people, though often mistreated, were often safer from the law than nobles who could pose a threat to a ruling class or family...serfs and slaves were the economic engine in the old agrarian culture, and most punishments were more likely to be due to cruelty by sociopathic nobility or perceived heresy than class notions.

It's more specific; it goes back to old English law, back when kings were actually pretty impotent like a Japanese Emperor with a Shogun looking over his shoulder and needed the various Duke's money and soldiers. Which often led to intrigues and backstabbing...the Magna Carta was an agreement by the king to not use the law to imprison and execute the various lords. It was later taught that it was a first step in the road to democracy but it was nothing of the sort, and really only a weakening of the King's power in England. There wasn't a single lord in England who thought the ordinary peasant was his equal, even in church. The French king, for example, was pretty impotent until maybe after Joan of Arc, and only because she chose to back the king (who as we know, betrayed her).

Yes, we learned in civics class that due process was to protect every individual and it sort of evolved to do that, but the intent was never safety...it's always been liberty over safety. It's a highly intellectual concept, and in fact, probably one that wouldn't be duplicated by more modern men trying to create a constitution.

In other words, it's a political concept...murder is a moral crime with a law attached...but politically it's OK to kill for state reasons, and the way our justice system is set up, there's nothing stopping anyone from killing another except the possibility of punishment or moral training...if you're willing to pay the price, you can kill someone, and in the case of stranger killings, the arrest and conviction rate gives you favorable odds of getting away with it.

The founding fathers created the constitution to guarantee that the government couldn't create a Tower of London to stick political (and economic) prisoners...as far as every day safety, your only real protection back then was societal restraint or a musket. 

The system didn't prevent lynchings, passion killings, or any crime except with those afraid of punishment and with a moral predisposition to be nice people. This is why the poor get jailed and the rich get off in most cases; it was designed to protect the rich landowners who organized the rebellion against a possible future king and so it can take a lot of money to get justice.

A true system with a safety first philosophy would have to be fascist and willing to monitor people everywhere with plenty of devices and people to step in to stop every crime...high tech will probably achieve such aims as most people don't realize that fascism is ideological and not political, and will not realize that Big Brother will be implemented by those saying they want to protect you rather than a bunch of Nazis and KKK.

When I'm sitting in a car at night, I trust the car...it's more protection than the law, and my escape...when I see a policeman drive by, I know I'm reasonably safe for a few minutes until he or she leaves the area, then criminals know the area has been called in to headquarters as quiet, though the smart crooks allow for overlapping patrols, etc.

I also trust the people in the area...if it's obvious that they aren't the types who'd hurt me, I'll stick around...if I don't know them, I watch for a couple of hours, and if the place feels dicey it's time to relocate. 

People are the real law, and anyone who thinks it's otherwise are taking a big risk.

I'm more likely to screwed over by by respectable folks like bankers, politicians, unscrupulous businesses than a meth head who prefers to panhandle for his cash...maybe elsewhere it's different; in which case it's a good idea to move on while you still can...

...rage, bullying, perception and power...

Most homeless have had the experience of being chewed out like a little kid in public by some policeman, store manager or even a passerby...it's easy to see that as a prejudice against the homeless but it's important to understand that it's often not about that at all...it's really about how some people handle power, or misdirected anger...it's very similar to road rage.

It's important to see that, so a resentment or misunderstanding about society doesn't develop and turn into an anti-social attitude that hinders attempts to climb out of homelessness...you won't get anywhere engaging in conflicts with the police or business owners, and being like that ignores the fact that most ordinary people are sympathetic.

One example is a police officer who orders you to move on from a street or parking lot...it's easy to feel put upon and perceive it as an act against the down and out...but being able  to see both sides helps...the officer could easily just cite or arrest you for vagrancy, trespassing, or have the car impounded but in most cases, the officer is actually sympathetic and is treating you as leniently as possible...and believe me, there's plenty of voices shouting in their ears to come down hard on the "vermin," and such, and rounding us all up would get plenty of support in many communities.

Seeing the whole picture makes complying and moving on a smart move...when officers clear an area out it's common to see many of the old timers do so politely and even thanking the officers...I've been on the receiving end of someone who had power over a homeless person and used every bit of it...catching a break is a mercy.

It's about power...some people, if given power, will use it and in a way to blow out their frustration or anger, or bolster poor self esteem...some homeless of course are just asking for it, but most are only interested in being left alone. 

Having a lot of homeless around can create annoyances and even crime...it can be frustrating for a society, business owner, or ordinary people, and that can be expressed as hard treatment aimed at someone they can do something about...a run down down area where there's lots of drug users (who happen to be homeless, but not the same as other homeless) can generate anger that hits the wrong people hard.

At one parking lot area, the drug scene and homeless camps generated a lot of resentment, and triggered a crack down. The "cleanup" mainly hit car and RV homeless, many of whom worked and stayed out of trouble...vehicles were tagged, in some cases towed, driven away and by the end of the week the looked nice and clean...except that it didn't clear out the camps in the levee and tree areas, so the parking lot filled up both day and night with drug users and panhandlers who filled the vacuum.

The area became so dicey that I avoided it at night. It was a cosmetic move that hit the quiet ones as they had vehicles, and thus could be leveraged with action against what was essentially their homes and it had virtually no effect on those who had nothing to lose in the camps. 

I'm not saying that nothing should have been done if the parking lot had become a problem...my point is that the show of force to satisfy the store management and property owner was directed at the most quiet and peaceful, who were often part of the service economy in the community and merely made a lot of lives more miserable to little effect. 

It also changes little to become angry about it, or to rebel or engage in passive aggressive behavior like dumping RV sewage onto the pavement...there's people in this world who'll attack the homeless like they would a little child or dog...if you see it's about power and personalities, then it'll be easier to see the sympathy that really does exist all around. Reentry into the mainstream will be easier for those who want that, and a more peaceful life for those who choose to stay out.

...just singing in the rain...

One of the things that become important when you're shuttered inside a car during a multi-day rainstorm is the sense of smell...things get damp, odors start to come out of the carpeting, upholstery, and of course, Ivy and me.

The other night I had settled into the sleeping bag and noticed an unmistakable scent of dog pee...since Ivy hadn't been left alone for more than a few minutes due to the weather, it wasn't clear where the aroma originated.

There was Ivy's little organic amonia patch that I'm still trying to locate, but this was different...it was as if she had made water on my head...it wasn't easy to locate the source in almost pitch darkness, but it became obvious that the uric acid particles had now established themselves on my sleeping bag, which could only mean that the source was the pillow being used to fill the bucket seat under me.

Still damp too...I ascertained that the pollution was confined to a corner, and more aromatic than wet, so it was tossed into the back seat where Ivy immediate took possession of it...I realized that my hair also reeked of kidney juice and found that my prized travel pillow had a sheen of dog wee wee...the late night investigation found the source to be a section of the passenger seat, and in the one section that hadn't been covered by the sleeping bag, pillows, and sweat pants.

Unlike the new ammonia factory, this was solvable, so I took the Arm & Hammer Dog Spray out and soaked the offending section of leather upholstery...I'd have to give the product a C+ for it's performance on leather, and it'll smell like a kitty litter box for maybe a couple of days.

Ivy knows when I'm cleaning up one of her admittedly rare messes, and sits up and turns on the charm, smiling and wagging her tail, and reminding me that next time I want to leave the car for a few minutes, even on an emergency trip to the bathroom, to observe the order of precedence and to make sure she doesn't need to go first.

During sustained rainy periods, I adhere to a rule that nothing she does is to be punished, even with a reprimand...it's close quarters and we have to go out during lulls as much as possible, which disrupts her normal break schedule and some accidents are unavoidable. Besides, she doesn't listen to me except at mealtime.

However, it does seem like this whole affair was to manipulate me into giving her a new pillow and maybe even the biggest prize of all, my beloved travel pillow she lays on at every opportunity...I'll take the travel pillow, which is actually a bag containing a comforter to the laundromat, and she can then watch me enjoy the last comfort granted me by the canine tyrant who rules the back seat area.

...a few words about my book in progress...

The team has been formed! Editor and author Jenna Brooks and author Melodie Ramone will be helping and guiding me with the completion of my book, which I hope to get done in 2-3 months. I have two chapters almost complete with several more in various stages of development, I'm projecting it to be about 10-12 chapters in length, maybe 60,000 words. I'll give out more details in the next blog entry.

...promo for the promo...

The new venture, Boogie Underground Media, which will be a promo service for social networks  entering on Twitter will be officially starting in February...I'm hoping this will become enough of a success to begin a rise into self sufficiency for Ivy and me, I'll give out more details in the days ahead, but here's some of the prelimary promos coming out now:

 

 

- Al Handa

Please consider a contribution to keep this blog going and support my activities:

http://www.gofundme.com/27w83daq

My intent isn't to become a donor funded homeless blogger, I'd like to do much more...until then, a donation would help Ivy and I to survive and continue efforts (like seeking work, etc) that can bring us out of homelessness as opposed to dropping further down into a transient lifestyle.

  

ontheroadwithalandivy@gmail.com

The Al & Ivy Homeless Literary Journal Archive:

http://deltasnake.blogspot.com

THE IVY CORNER: Ivy seen here in an outtake from her second professional photo session for the ad layouts for Tia Shurina's book, Everything and a Happy Ending.

Yes I did say video was coming but I haven't worked out all of the bugs yet :-)

 

Please consider a contribution to keep this blog going and support my activities:

http://www.gofundme.com/27w83daq

My intent isn't to become a donor funded homeless blogger, I'd like to do much more...until then, a donation would help Ivy and I to survive and continue efforts (like seeking work, etc) that can bring us out of homelessness as opposed to dropping further down into a transient lifestyle.

Many thanks to these contributors to this blog!

Voodo chile Ivy finds it easy to love Eric Wilder's Big Easy!

http://www.ericwilder.com/

 

Tia Shurina's Journey from half happy to all in happiness, Everything and a Happy Ending!

https://www.amazon.com/Everything-Happy-Ending-Tia-Shurina/dp/0578166038