Showing posts with label last of the mohicans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label last of the mohicans. Show all posts

Friday, March 10, 2023

On The Road With Al And Ivy: A Literary Homeless Chronicle - March 2023


And every morning, perched on our stays, rows of these birds were seen; and spite of our hootings, for a long time obstinately clung to the hemp, as though they deemed our ship some drifting, uninhabited craft; a thing appointed to desolation, and therefore fit roosting-place for their homeless selves.

- Herman Melville (Moby Dick)

SOME THOUGHTS ON VAN LIFE AND NOMAD LIFE VIDEOS:

One of the topics on Tik Tok and other social media is "Van Life" and other nomad-type trips, and the contents range from helpful tips and observations to complete disconnects from reality that could only happen if the person was well financed or on a lark to become a social influencer. Many of these brief glimpses are about that kind of life when everything is going right or the kinds of obstacles that come up really are more like vacation hassles (that can seem more serious to a homeless person whose short on cash).

I won't do a formal essay; I'll just riff on the idea in general terms and not get too much into critiquing these videos and shorts. One reason is that van life is a diverse scene of which homelessness is only one subculture. That lifestyle is mainly in the recreation and travel category which really is another subject. There’s no reason to write a piece that surveys the whole scene. Plus for many of the homeless, watching a vehicle travelogue is as real as watching a Foodie cooking show or a demo of the perfectly equipped RV or Van. 

…new… 

The famous American author Jack London decided to live as a homeless person in London and write a book about it. As far as those kinds of investigations go, he probably came the closest to living that life as it was. Even so, he took the precaution of setting up a safe house, which he had to use when the effort to find shelter in bad weather failed. In other words, London had an "out." He could have  walked away at any time and, to his credit, was honest enough to state that in his book. 

The thing is, there is a huge psychological difference between being stuck there and knowing there's an out. One of my most powerful moments was realizing, "This could be my life from now on." When there's still some cash, and it's all very new, it can feel like an adventure or camping trip.

In my Vella books, On The Road With Al & Ivy: The Novel (all three), this realization will be examined in great detail. In Book 2, the character will see that he was at the same crossroad his Grandfather was at while in a concentration camp during W.W. 2; that a decision to face the present and live an unpleasant reality is the only way out of it, even if acceptance felt like surrender. In the case of the main character, that meant not neglecting the small steps that needed to be taken for survival and making he didn't hit bottom. 

The notion of “hitting bottom” is partly myth. I realized that, yes, short of death, it can always get worse. I was living in a car with my dog, but if my life descended lower into backpacking, I'd have lost Ivy and most of what I still owned. Maybe I mean that the "hitting bottom moment" is when you realize it's time to stop the slide, even if moving upwards isn't possible at first.



...time has come today...

One thing I don't see in many of the videos and shorts is the element of time and the related problems of fatigue or emotional distress that the homeless deal with. A little problem that a vacationer will deal with as an annoyance or bump in the road can feel like a disaster to people dealing with depression or mental illness.

For example, one person demonstrated an electrically heated sleeping bag and jacket, making it seem like a successful hack for sleeping in a vehicle in winter snow. As far as success, yeah, kinda, sorta, maybe...but sleeping in a vehicle even when it's only 30+ degrees is colder than you can imagine. A good sleeping bag helps, but even allowing for a heated bag or jacket, here's what can happen throughout a winter, which would be maybe two or three months, 60 to 90 days in a row.

1. Can't find a safe place to park that night. You don't dare get too comfortable.

2. Money's tight that day; you've had to choose between batteries for a heating device at today's prices, food, or gas. I'd pick batteries in a severe winter, then gas and food last. I go to bed hungry. 

3. Heating devices like these do fail. Do you have the cash to replace it that day, or is it a mail order item. Do you even have a mailbox? If not, do you know where the nearest shelter is, safe or not, as a place to retreat to? In warm weather, no big deal. We're talking about months of cold that can kill you in winter. These devices have to work every single day in weather where a few people die every year from exposure in cars if they get stranded.

4. A druggie gets pissed at you and puts a rock through one of your windows. I've seen that happen. If your insurance deductible is too high, you'll have to use precious cash to fix it ASAP in the snow. Until then, it’ll be a garbage bag or cardboard, and your car (and you) will be wet (and very cold) inside after cleaning up the mess.

Also, can you cover the motel bill if the car has to stay in the shop? 

5. Your car battery dies. No charge for a bag that uses 12V until you get a jump, run the car and waste valuable gas, and that's for a battery in good condition. If it's near it's "end of life" and doesn't hold charge well, I wouldn’t run a device off it.

The list could go on. Having lived through a few winters in the Midwest, if I had to live in a car, it'd be time to head South where snow would be the least of your problems. The margin of error when the temperature goes below zero is too tiny to try 60-90 days of it. No reputable survival expert would make it seem like a simple matter of some clever hacks.

...idiots...

There's one other element that these videos don't cover; we called them "idiots," or the party pooper or toxic types that always show up and ruin everything. A common phrase out there (in the areas I was in) was, "Things were fine until the idiots showed up."

I'll give an example from my Vella book. There was a parking lot that was known to be "quiet," and store management and police would turn a blind eye to the occasional overnight Camper if they didn't make trouble. It was a good backup when things got too rowdy in the primary place I was staying. One day a large party, called "The Caravan" in my novel, arrived and set up a large, sprawling camp right up against the side of a store. Around a dozen in vehicles slept there, and maybe another dozen came and went on bikes, many of whom were young drug runners. I'm sure you get the picture.

They caused so much trouble that the lot was closed to any homeless within a few days, and Private Security was hired to patrol and question anyone in the lot after dark. That group hit every place where the homeless stayed, and within a month, people like me had to head for another city. It wasn't just groups; it could be individuals who would show up and pull crazy stunts that the group there couldn't control and would force the cops to clear out the area. Unfortunately, nomadic life and homeless videos don't generally cover this subject for various reasons, some of those being common sense to avoid retaliation.

It's not just a homeless thing; most groups, bars, or events see this type of personality at some time or another. You may not hear about idiots in the videos, but they're there, and macho warrior ass-kicking or confronting them often doesn't work (just like in respectable life).

...getting back...

Getting back to the general subject of nomadic life, it was a way of life for most Native American tribes, migrants, settlers, hobos, and mountain men. In 2016, the homeless scene in the four main areas I inhabited wasn't just meth heads in tents pitched on the sidewalks. The scene encompassed a variety of types; RV, Van, campers, cars, to different subcultures of "backpackers" (homeless who lived out in the open, which included those who had their belongings in shopping carts).

I avoided tent cities and large camps. Those places are basically anarchies ridden with crime and often run by cliques. Plus, those can harbor bike chop shops and other illegal activities, bringing trouble.

...classes...

There were economic strata. Most of the RV'ers were retirees or had some regular income. Van, Camper, or car homeless generally had at least an irregular source of cash, and many had jobs in retail which wasn't enough to get a roof over your head in Silicon Valley. If anyone in a vehicle was a heavy drug user, it was only a matter of time before they dropped into the backpacker life.

The Backpackers were generally people hitting the end of the line, many having had a vehicle in the beginning. Some groups were ad-hoc gatherings of runaways or drug users, mainly young. If they didn't end up trafficked, they often moved on with other runaways heading north to the Pacific Northwest or south to Southern California, returned home, or entered the penal system.

Drug use wasn't a universal trip in every area. Many used it; many didn't. Those you see in homeless stories in the media are the ones who can't move away from a camera, and not all are stoned. If nobody else, at least the ones running bike chop shops in a tent city are generally straight. I went the full 13 months without taking a drink or using. It wasn't hard, because even at my lowest points, I could see what catastrophic damage meth could inflict and more to the point, it was apparent that walking around drunk or stoned was a hazardous thing to do out there.

... R.V...

Even RV'ers with fixed incomes didn't have it easy. The older vehicles could break down and be stuck for days. Some groups would have a guy who could fix the common problems, but one couple I knew had to sell theirs off and go back to living in a car when a breakdown was too expensive to fix. 

…Walmart…

As far as these Van Life videos, it reminds me of the time when the media did a stupid thing without regard for who it hurt. Not all, of course, but more than a few.

Several years ago, a story came out where Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas mentioned that he loved to travel by R.V. across the county and stay in Walmart Parking lots to save on motel bills. Countless media outlets eagerly passed on this tip, and soon afterward, cities began passing ordinances forbidding overnight camping in Walmart (and other) lots. 

This unofficial refuge had been an open secret among travelers and homeless who followed an unspoken and occasionally documented etiquette to only stay one night. Still, after the publicity, five thousand places to sleep overnight were essentially shut down, and overnight camping was criminalized in those places. Even in 2016, many businesses would try to turn a blind eye to the practice, but the now larger crowds included people who set up bbq grills, stayed until kicked out and dumped their sewage on the pavement as a screw-you to store management. Those are all things I saw out there.

...media attention...

Same with media stories on homeless camps. As a general rule, when we heard or saw such stories, that was the signal to avoid the area, as it was only a matter of time before the crackdown came. These Van Life, videos and media stories are going to happen. Tens of thousands of tents on L.A. streets can't be ignored by the media, and some good can come of social media shorts and news stories, but watching someone in a well-equipped van demonstrate hiding in a parking lot that forbids it doesn't teach much. It’s advice on how to break the law, and following it in the wrong place or time might be just a speed bump for a traveler, but for a homeless person, any legal trouble can seriously disrupt his or her life.

Many of those videos aren't in places I've been in where the vehicle could get jacked or broken into. There were at least two attempts to break into my car that I knew of, for example, in relatively safe areas.

...first hack...

The first hack I'd demonstrate if you want to live in a van for a year is how to make it look like such a piece of crap that no one would think it has anything valuable in it. The problem then would be that some might think you're a low-level dealer, and the cops would start paying attention, as would druggies who'd think you were carrying.

If you have the cash, the advice to camp in national parks is viable. However, in California, for example, most nice campsites with good facilities are nearly as expensive as motels. There was one that was very cheap but so dusty and hot that dirt bikers were mainly the ones who used it, and the descriptions of the place at night by other homeless scared me off.

...considering...

Don't just watch the videos if you want to consider Van Life. Also, get the scoop from those who tried it for a long period and either quit or will tell you the hard truth about the upside and downsides. I did 13 months out there. By the last month, I was at the end of my rope, though it might have been different if I'd ensured I was in an R.V. or Camper right from the start. However, I didn't want to stay on the road and decided never to invest in any more comfortable arrangement that could make me feel settled down. Nomadic life might be viable and worth a try, but if you do, be like Jack London and ensure there's an exit back to regular life. Otherwise, it can be a hard road back.



One final note: You may have noticed that I never give specific advice. Info from a video that's even just weeks old can be very wrong.

One good example is a short that showed a good way to park in lots that don't allow overnight camping. The problem no matter how clever the tips are, as a general rule, store management, and employees do know you're out there. Especially if others have taken similar advice and several vans and campers now are parked there with you. If an R.V. arrives to join in the fun, forget it, that's like a huge banner that will draw attention from management. Even if it doesn't stay, it'll be spotted and watched along with the other cars. 

Always assume that the influencer on video isn't the only one on that street or lot.

…camouflage…

The worst tip was immediately covering the windows to allow one to keep inside lights on and not be spotted. The idea was that it'd blend into the darkness. However, most lots are now well-lit as a safety measure, and a vehicle with covered windows will be seen and immediately flagged as a camper. Plus, for safety, you should park in lit areas and near cameras if possible, not in dark corners.

There's also a myopic view here. The influencer was focused on evading management and staff, which is wrong. Most staff aren’t obsessing about the homeless; they're busy running a business. Most of the time, you'll be flagged by a passerby or customer who'll bring it up to the manager or call the police.

Plus, if there's Security, they may not bother you but will note in their report they saw a probable homeless person in the lot, with description, time, and license plate number. Virtually all Security forces keep reports, and if there's an assault, car break-in, or robbery in that lot, the police will check those reports to see if any suspicious people were there. 

So you could end up a suspect or witness. Again, for a traveler passing through, not a huge deal. For a transient, there’s a reason why it could be a serious matter to be a witness. You can guess why.

In another place, like a hospital parking lot (which I’ve seen recommended), covering all of the windows is very dangerous as you'll lose situational awareness, as those places have a higher incidence of assault and rape due to nurses walking back to their cars at all hours. Security generally escort nurses out and will spot a covered vehicle. If you're male, you can become a suspect in the wrong place at the wrong time. If female, you'll be a convenient alternative for a rapist if no nurses are in the lot. That’s not just a scare story. I was in Security for six years when I was younger, and knew guys who worked at hospitals, and it’s a good idea to avoid using those lots to sleep in.

My point is, don't take these videos' tips and hacks at face value. Their success on camera could be sheer luck; believe me, areas where the homeless congregate can be wildly different in culture and level of safety, both of which can change instantly.

There's the old advice not to believe everything you see on the Internet. That's true for Van Life videos.



LOST IN TRANSLATION: WHY CLASSIC BOOKS CAN SEEM BORING


Suppose you published a book, and the readers demanded that it be rewritten to be more funny, sexy, or "authentic." Add to that if readers felt the work failed to capture the true flavor of the era or situation and referred people to a fan fiction version of your book that was supposedly better.


That would strike most authors as outrageous, right? However, that happens all the time with translated classics, though in a slightly different way.


I recall checking out the reviews for a particular classic and saw that people would claim that this or that translation was the best. For example, one person claimed that none of the versions was perfect, but the one by an Englishman did the best to capture the satiric intent. Another felt that a more modern edition was more readable and more faithful to the original author's intent. The book was Don Quixote by Miguel De Cervantes, and personally, I've never particularly liked the book. However, the version by Tobias Smollett came the closest to being likable (for me). One reason is that I enjoyed his original novels, which were hilarious if you liked 17th Century humor.


I also admit that my view is skewed from watching the Mister McGoo cartoon version as a child.


When perusing translations, it can feel like reading different books, particularly with the Iliad. Due to the difficulty in interpreting ancient Greek, a translator can create a non-literal interpretation due to elements like different grammatical rules or cultural bias. I could describe how the Iliad has been translated, but the best way to illustrate the point would be to show some examples. So I picked several versions and will show you how the different opening paragraphs of Homer's work look. These excerpts say the same thing but with varying approaches to interpreting the original Greek.


Iliad Translations (in no particular order):


"Achilles' wrath, to Greece the direful spring Of woes unnumber'd, heavenly goddess, sing! That wrath which hurl'd to Pluto's gloomy reign The souls of mighty chiefs untimely slain;


- Alexander Pope (1715 trans.)


"Of Peleus' son, Achilles, sing, O Muse, The vengeance, deep and deadly; whence to Greece Unnumbered ills arose; which many a soul Of mighty warriors to the viewless shades Untimely sent;


- Edward Earl of Derby (1864 trans.)


"Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures,"


- Samuel Butler


"Sing, goddess, the anger of Peleus' son Achilleus and its devastation, which put pains thousandfold upon the Achaians, hurled in their multitudes to the house of Hades strong souls of heroes, but gave their bodies to be the delicate feasting of dogs, of all birds,"


- Richmond Lattimore (1951)


"Sing, Ο goddess, the destructive wrath of Achilles, son of Peleus, which brought countless woes upon the Greeks, and hurled many valiant souls of heroes down to Hades, and made themselves a prey to dogs and to all birds [but the will of Jove was being accomplished],"


- Theodore Alois Buckley (1873)


"Sing, MOUNTAIN GODDESS, sing through me That anger which most ruinously Inflamed Achilles, Peleus' son, And which, before the tale was done, Had glutted Hell with champions—bold, Stern spirits by the thousandfold; Ravens and dogs their corpses ate."


- Robert Graves (The Anger Of Achilles 1959)


"Alpha the prayer of Chryses sings: The army's plague: the strife of kings. Achilles' baneful wrath resound, O Goddess, that impos'd Infinite sorrows on the Greeks, and many brave souls los'd. From breasts heroic; sent them far to that invisible cave That no light comforts; and their limbs to dogs and vultures gave;"


- George Chapman (1598)


"Anger be now your song, immortal one,

Akhilleus' anger, doomed and ruinous,

that caused the Akhaians loss on bitter loss

and crowded brave souls into the undergloom,

leaving so many dead men—carrion

for dogs and birds;"


- Robert Fitzgerald (1974)


"AN ANGRY MAN—THERE IS MY STORY: THE BITTER RANCOUR of Achillês, prince of the house of Peleus, which brought a thousand troubles upon the Achaian host. Many a strong soul it sent down to Hadês, and left the heroes themselves a prey to dogs and carrion birds,"


- W.H.D. Rouse (1938)


"Rage-Goddess sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles, murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses, hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls, great fighters' souls, but made their bodies carrion, feasts for dogs and birds,"


- Robert Fagles (1990)


"I Thée beseech, O Goddesse milde, the hatefull hate to plaine,

Whereby Achilles was so wroong, and grewe in suche disdaine,

That thousandes of the Gréekish Dukes, in hard and heauie plight,

To Plutoes Courte did yéelde their soules, and gaping lay vpright,

Those sencelesse trunckes of burial voide, by them erst gaily borne,

By rauening curres, and carreine foules, in péeces to be torne.”


- Arthur Hall (1581)


 "Anger--sing, goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that accursed anger, which brought the Greeks endless sufferings and sent the mighty sould of many warriors to Hades, leaving their bodies as carrion for the dogs and a feast for the birds;"


E.V. Rieu (1950)


As you can see, these excerpts say the same thing, but most writers can tell that most of these aren't literal translations but phrases that the translator felt expressed Homer's intent in modern English. Those who aren't used to reading classics might even think these guys are writing a new story but making sure the essential plot points are covered, which is probably true.


For example, Pope's version isn't literal, but he intended to change Homer's verses into modern poetry (for his era). Rieu intended to create a prose version as he felt it'd be more accessible to readers. Graves wanted to capture what he felt was the way the story was told back then, which was as a satire. Some of the writers reinterpreted an earlier translation, and so on.


Generally, if I find that a particular classic seems dry or (gasp) boring, my first step is to see if another translation is available. Many classics that started as non-English literature are only as good as the translator, and that can mean that one is looking for one that pleases you just as much as being true to the original author's work.


I had that problem with the Odyssey or the Tale Of Ullyses as some know it, in finding the various versions a bit dry or dull. Many people prefer it to the Iliad as the complex story appeals to modern readers. It might have struck a different chord if the story was more like Graves' assertion that the translations are bowdlerized from earlier, very rowdy folk versions.


It's plausible that the Odyssey was originally a ribald tale like Chaucer's work. Most people know "1001 The Arabian Nights" as a collection of fairy tales, but the translation by Sir Richard Burton (the explorer, not the actor) is a saucy, erotic version that makes more sense if the woman was telling the stories to distract the King who married women and executed them the next morning. Burton's bacchanalia, or romantic Hollywood love story, is technically a translation, and a reader can pick one or both.


One thing that can make a classic seem dull is if you see a movie version first. The stories in older literature often unfold at a slower pace, and films often stress action, insert values from a different culture, focus on stars, or do not even bother with being faithful to the book. For example, the movie "Decline And Fall Of The Roman Empire" (and "Gladiator" which had similar plot elements and characters) is only vaguely similar to the book, which was a non-fiction history book by Edward Gibbon, whose interpretation of events was in turn considered inaccurate by some critics.


One interesting situation is where the book and movie are different but excellent. "Ben Hur" by Lew Wallace is a good example. The movie version starring Charlton Heston is considered a classic, but most who've read the book find Wallace an excellent storyteller. I say "most" because there'll always be someone who won't like it.


One classic example of the book and movie having a different interpretation is "Last Of The Mohicans" by James Fenimore Cooper. The film was a hit, and I remember one review that claimed that it modernized and breathed new life into a "hoary old book." 


As someone who loves the book so much that I've always kept a copy in my library, there are a few problems with that critic's statement:


1. The real Pathfinder was an older man who had an atavistic, almost pagan view of Christianity and had constant debates with a young preacher who wasn't in the movie. Those debates were unusually philosophical for the era. The older man was a crack shot and an experienced frontiersman who was eccentrically philosophical and entertainingly feral. He was a fascinating character.


2. The two Mohicans were, in many ways, the real heroes of the book. The father was extremely smart and proficient in hand-to-hand combat, and his son, Uncas, was dynamic and heroic. His death was a significant event. The Pathfinder character in the movie was a combination of the three, particularly Uncas, and the two Native Americans were transformed into stock sidekicks like Tonto of the Lone Ranger TV show. Add a little horniness and Braveheart-like macho, and you have the movie version in a nutshell.


3. The book was also about Mohican culture's extinction, represented by Uncas' death. Cooper did fall into the trap of having good and bad Indians, which corresponded to which tribes were allied with the British or Americans. Still, many book scenes featuring detailed conversations with or within the tribes were left out. It was very much a book about Native Americans.


Of course, that's my opinion. You might feel differently about the book and movie. However, the difference in interpretation between the movie and book examples isn't unlike the process of translation of classics. The English version can result from many factors, including the translator's command of the foreign language, what they think is the author's intent, any bias (like inserting a Christian view), how literal it should be, and the agenda.


The agenda is an essential factor. For example, the book and movie about "Spartacus," the Gladiator who led a rebellion against Rome, portrays him as a sensitive, monogamous Freedom Fighter who fought against the tyranny of Rome. The intent was to create a good versus evil tale. But, like most ancient wars, the real battle was probably brutal, as Spartacus must have understood what would happen if he lost. 


My point is that's how Spartacus was portrayed in the 60s. I'm sure the tale was told differently in that era. If one sees how the perception of Native Americans evolved from barbarians to human beings, the different attitudes in each stage would be a bias that could affect the translation of any tribal stories or philosophies.


So, if that classic book you're reading seems a little dull, it may not be the original author's fault. But, on the other hand, don't get me started on Balzac or Tolstoy; I'm not sure any translation will make me want to read those books. Sometimes, you're just not going to like the author.




ON THE ROAD WITH AL & IVY: THE NOVEL


Reprint of Episode 2: Police Manhunt And A Visit From A God


Eleven-Thirty Saturday Night

Your face presses down on dirty wood,

dodging hot lead skimming over the dance floor

very sudden like,

A lead slug can show you quick

if the preacher's right on questions

you don't want answered right now,

One scared young dude

caught in bad company

in a juke joint full of souls running drunk.

- Manuscript Excerpt from Jook (June 1986)

Gleemon Street is lit up like grand opening night at a used car lot. The levee fence looks like an eerie grey screen with a black curtain behind it. No flood light can pierce the darkness behind it.

Another patrol car skids to a stop at the edge of the grass area surrounding the entrance. The cop is there to close it off as an escape route.

There are only two ways to go. If you're camped out on the West Bank of the Slough, then there's a dirt road heading west towards the orchards that run along the bank further down. If you're on the east bank side next to the fence, it's foolish to try and go down a 20-foot slope to cross the creek bed in the dark, so you head south and cut right at the fork towards the water pump station next to Highway 152 a half mile away.

You can hop the fence into a large cabbage field that borders the next shopping center, but the cops know this and already have a car stationed there. There's no point in coming back out. If you stay in the dark, you can move faster than the police can search.

My night vision returns along with a regular pulse; it wasn't me they were looking for. There are over a dozen police cars now. Some are in the adjacent parking lot with officers on foot searching with shotguns. Others are about a hundred yards off near the access gate, sealing off the main levee road entrance. I see flashlight beams moving south into the Slough, some stopping as they begin to come across the camps.

It's a manhunt, probably another armed robbery downtown. The police will try to herd the fugitive back into the parking lots or farm fields further south. Leaving isn't a bright idea. There'd just be more cops and lights in my face, each one having to decide whether to search me or shoot. If they're looking for a suspect on foot, then I'm safer parked between two police cars than driving off and possibly running into an armed dude who needs an escape vehicle.

The search continues for half an hour. Finally, I decide it's a good time to move into the North parking lot of the store but see that several other homeless have already done so. Too many, including one I suspect is a dealer, so I head over to the other side and patiently wait out the cop there that puts me under surveillance.

There's no point in moving about; I'll keep running into police screens. The best thing to do is just act like the homeless person I am, so the window shades go up, and sure enough, that's routine looking enough to satisfy the cop, who then drives off. Only a homeless person would sack out in the middle of a dragnet.

I can't stay here. This lot section is a transit route for the druggies who come out to begin the early morning ice or ecstasy ritual of whooping and hollering, throwing off clothes, and getting into arguments with truckers and third-shift store employees out collecting carts.

As I begin to leave, a tall young-looking homeless guy comes through a break in the fence line, known around here as the south gate, walking towards me and mouthing some nonsensical words. I don't stare or do anything that could be interpreted as aggression.

The angry ones are easy to avoid, you can hear them coming, and they're already pissed off at something else. The ones that just stare and smile scare me; they're still looking for trouble. I watch as he saunters away, taking off his shirt, throwing it on a small tree, and singing some song at the top of his lungs. Molly's got his blood boiling, and he'll keep stripping until the cops pick him up.

I return to Gleemon Street and see that the squad cars are gone, so I park in the same place. I don't have a better plan anyway. Besides, after all the excitement, the area should be quiet.

I look over and see that Ivy has fallen asleep, which means no trouble. She stays wired if there's any disturbance within fifty yards. This isn't a good night to stretch out in a sleeping bag, so I curl up in the front seat and stare at the old cloth canopy starting to come down like a big brown bubble.

After a few months in the car, I've begun to hear voices, like a conference call with God, Ivy, and others speaking in and out of turn. I don't get disturbed hearing them, I've talked to myself often enough to know which one is me, but God help me the day I can no longer tell. There are a lot of people like that out there on the levee.

I carelessly open a window to let in cool air. A tall, muscular bald guy, kinda biker-like, suddenly comes to view in front, stands off about ten feet, then shows his hands and hails me, "Hello Car," in the old Wild West Style of approaching a strange camp, begins to approach slowly. That's how a stranger tells another on the street that they mean no harm. If it was an attack, it'd have come suddenly from behind.

I silently curse; it's a rookie mistake to open a window without checking, but suddenly closing it could be seen as a sign of fear or panic. You never know how a stranger will react to that. I act nonchalant, which is a safe move as it won't trigger any defensive reaction. He's probably scared, too. Even the big bulls can get humbled right quick out here. I smile and greet him with the casual air of a fellow street urchin but don't show my hands. It's better to leave a little doubt, and that makes him hesitate and stop a few feet away.

It's just a meth head still in high gear, and now comes a ten-minute speech about how harmless he is, which is good to hear from someone who looks strong enough to twist my head off. He continues with a long monologue punctuated with broad sweeping hand gestures and, at one point, pretending to run somewhere. It sounds like he's having a good night; the verbal riffing moves along like a rock and roll anthem with a great guitar solo in the middle.

I lay back in the seat, right hand discreetly covering a metal bar and pepper spray, listening to Ivy's snoring, and gazing at the stars as he drones on and on. It's stupid to use a knife out here. If I bruise his head or hands with the baton, that's the end of it. He probably wouldn't even remember how he got it. A stab wound gets reported, and we both end up in jail.

The meth must be nice and soft because he's soaring, feeling like a benevolent God, and tonight we're under his protection. The monologue slows down, and I sense it's safe to pretend to yawn and close the window. He nods and moves on, still talking, and the night becomes quiet.

I'm drifting off, beginning to dream, regret, blame, and wish for things. I'm exhausted but prepared to drive off if I see the guy coming back. He'd be coming from the rear this time and had a good look at the car and its contents. I only average three hours of sleep a night, so staying vigilant's a struggle. Sometime during that process, sleep comes, and then it's just the dreams.

This one dream comes often enough that I remember it after waking. I'm on a stage, playing music, and there's no audience, just blackness. The band members vary over time; sometimes, friends or family, strangers, the faces change. Other times I can see an audience, but I'm alone, playing this acoustic guitar with my ear pressed to the sound hole, listening to the echo. Lately, it's been with past friends with a packed audience, all in a happy mood, but I'm standing there, indifferent to it all, and there's just silence. Finally, I walk off the stage and then wake up, and for the rest of the day, the music that usually runs through my head is absent, with no desire to hear any.

A few months ago, a night like this would have made me look elsewhere for a place to sleep, but now, in the sticky hot summer of 2016, I know that this is as good a place as any, and settle down for a stay that'll last until this seam closes and it's time to scatter with the other homeless to find another crack in the wall.

END OF EPISODE

Read Episode 3


UPDATE ON ON THE ROAD WITH AL & IVY: THE ANTHOLOGY VOL. 1 (2016-2018)


I’ll be pulling this ebook off Kindle Unlimited sometime this month and will resume free distribution on other sites. The main reason, besides shifting the focus to wider readership is that this Anthology will come out as a revised version sometime this year. I’ve obtained most of the social media posts from this period and will insert edited versions into the book in chronological order. This adds the day to day observations and activities which will add continuity and many of the blog entries will make more sense in context. Also, I’ll add new commentary to make this volume feel like a chronological account of the period. Until then, it makes sense to make this version free to increase interest in the new edition.








BE SURE TO CHECK OUT THE DELTA SNAKE REVIEW ON THIS SAME SITE




Here's info on each of my Vella books:




The Quitters


https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B09PC3L6PC



I, Ivy


 https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0B3RCBT4D



The Forbidden Lost Gospels Of Murgatroyde


 https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0BJ2TW4P1



The Boogie Underground Think Tank: How To Survive The End Of Civilization


 https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0BG6LNXTG


The Adventures Of Queen Khleopahtra: Ruler Of Egypt, Time Traveler, and Literary Detective


 https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0BJC122G7


Please check out and listen to my music on Spotify, YouTube, Apple Music and other music sites. Please add any cuts you like to your playlists!