documentary

“The problem with people today… Things were created to be used… and people were created to be loved. And, we are loving things and using people.

The biggest thing the planet is missing is respect,” Todays new neighbor turned Rachel speaks out.

Rachel is relatively new to California. Who, along with her significant guy and a girlfriend, moved into my neighborhood, only a short two weeks ago.

Often I speak of the importance of getting to know our neighbors, and every time I reach out to those living so close to me, it strengthens my thoughts on the premise of positive attraction. Namely the “Water seeks its own level theory.”

Some refer to the theory solely as an idiom, when in reality it is based on scientific fact: A hose can be used for a water level with hundreds of feet between two points. And as long as two bodies of water are connected somehow, they will be at the same level. As an idiom, it would mean a person tends to seek out people they feel are equal or have the same point of view.

It’s not that my new neighbors and I are clones of perspective; that would be an unrealistic expectation. But what is powerfully apparent in my meeting of Rachel, as well as all those who have engaged with me in this 365 journeys, close neighbors or not, is that fact that there are more people who care about each other than we realize.

This claim I can now support via the testimonials from the hundreds of people I have now approached and interviewed. Most of whom have spoken of desires for a more united planet, or at least communities. And all of whom have bought into the 365 mission of “We are all in this thing together.”

As so eloquently communicated by Rachel, “The problem with people today… Things were created to be used… and people were created to be loved. And, we are loving things and using people.

And with is Rachel trumpets us to action, “The biggest thing the planet is missing is respect.”

“I was raised in a small town in upper New York State, I knew everyone and the whole town respected each other. It’s not like that in Los Angeles, and I miss my friends and family.” Rachel opens up as she describes her childhood.

“My dad was a big disciplinarian, he taught me to treat others with respect and the importance of politeness and manners.”

All traits that are obviously being carried on through the attitude and humanistic perspective that Rachel apparently lives by. She states, “Too many people are terribly rude and ignorant or just doing bad things to each other. I’m not perfect, I’ve even fallen into a few bad habits, but I’m doing my best to be a good person.

We have to simply do nice things for the people around us. For no reason other than it is the right thing to do. It’s all about our approach to life.

I have a hard time understanding where all the negativity comes from.

What would the world be like if we payed it forward and spread the positive?

Life is not about having to prove others wrong. We see that too much in the working world.”

Rachel is part of a unique and courageous group of citizens, able to look at herself and the country that she calls home. Yet, in doing so, she takes stock in looking at current culture with an evaluative mind, “American greed is responsible for many of our problems. Everyone wants something better, and that’s OK. The problem is… that too many Americans will do anything to get it. And when they get what they want, they complain that it is not enough.

This greed is going to drive us to a war with ourselves, a war between the people here in America. For that not to happen we need to find a way to come together as a people and drop the self-entitlement.

America would benefit from some discipline.”

Sure, we have heard many rants on the good old USA. Some are founded in reality, worthy of consideration, while others are merely excuses to justify horrible behavior from those who have no agenda other than to take what they can.

Rachel is on the bright side of the argument and has earned her point of view through her actions. “I served in the military…” she reveals, “…It made me a better person. It should be mandatory that we all serve in the military. If we did, we would have more discipline, and with that… more respect towards each other.”

I’m on the fence with this challenge. And will be the first to confess that I never served, or that I can even come close to understanding the full experience of enlistment.

But luckily, I have had quite a bit of exposure to the armed forces, both throughout my life and throughout my career. In doing so I have interacted with some of the most noble of people as well as some, who I am reluctant to admit, have no respect or compassion for humankind (although I can confidently state that the majority of the modern service men and women are of the highest integrity and character).

And why is it that in an organization of unwavering discipline can there exist a dark side?

Rachel resolves my self-debate in bridging her militaristic stance with a greater priority, “The most important thing in your life is your family,” she expands.

Ah! There is the key point!

In 365 we have met the full gamut of parents: Single mothers and fathers, family dynamics of every demographic, faith and economic situations and countless kids from all sides of the tracks.

The one commonality to all, good life values are regularly instilled by the family unit… no matter what it’s construct and status. Therein lies the reform.

“I don’t believe our society is going to get any better. Too many generations have lost respect and it goes back to the family and it’s values,” Rachel observes.

“It blows me away that twelve-year-old girls are now getting pregnant. When I was twelve, I did not even know what sex was. What is going on in the families that are allowing this to happen?”

Rachel speaks of respect, of discipline, of manners and of politeness. And in her words, I perceive an ambassadorship, a personable outcry that encourages an implied quest of unity in promoting the power of good values; a power that we all have the ability to lean into, or to close our eyes in leaning away from. It’s our choice.

If chosen well, we have limitless strength. Whether we find ourselves in the lap of luxury or in the depths of the darkest circumstances, we can never be stripped of our will. And with that will, might I propose a review.

“Water really does seek its own level,” We addressed.

And with our own personal reservoirs filled correctly, with focus on one another and away from of own greed’s, the genesis is set.

We may feel as if we are alone, but I promise we are not. 365 has revealed a mini matrix of sorts for us to reflect upon. And even though many have spoken of the downfall to come, might we exit today’s entry with Rachel’s words of council:

”What would the world be like if we payed it forward and spread the positive?”

“The most important thing in your life is your family.”

And in a way, we are all family…. Family Human.

Shall we seek the right level?

“Never give up on your dreams and passions,” Mardy tells us as I speak with him while he paints a window.

“I know that’s a little cliché, can I elaborate?” he asks.

“Please do, we’d love to hear more,” and we’re off.

“It’s all about honesty…” Mardy starts, “’…. It is the best policy in all situations. Like when looking for a job, so many people say ‘lets say this… or lets say that.’ What about if they say the truth? We have to be honest about who we are, and with that honesty, comes a good attitude.

It applies to everything we do. It’s the same in dating. A lot of people try to be something they are not. They try to dress or act to impress. If you are unemployed… say it. Women like honesty and resourcefulness.

Stand up for what you believe, even if you are the last one in the room, or the last one standing.

Like Columbus: At first, no one listened to or believed him. They thought the earth was flat and they thought he was insane.

What would have happened if Christopher Columbus was not honest with himself in standing up for what he believed in?’”

Mardy tells us who he is.

“I am an artist, and my work is about bringing people together. There is meaning in my art. I paint windows as a living, and so far it has supported me. But what is most important to me is following my passion.

I think people are more inspired by passion than by money. That’s how it is for me.

The arts bring people together, they are the international language.”

My opinion, Mardy is right on track in his commentary. Creative and independent thinking is a core element in uniting society. Through art, history has been revealed, and via it, we have been educated to both the grandeur and plight of ages past. It has document humanity as far back as we can study, and has given us lessons ranging from science to culture. From days of battle to days of peace, the works of inspired and creative minds have provided us glimpses into the literal evolution of mankind. And with this our eyes are constantly opened to new avenues of thought and outlooks on the world.

In a way, we are all modern-day explorers of art. And for those of us who are able to connect with the right lobe, are in my opinion, on a better course to a better understanding of fellow-man and a greater fulfilled life.

With great passion, Mardy politics, “’I can’t stand what I am seeing in education. Schools are attacking the arts, and it’s a huge mistake!

Think about the harm it is doing to reduce the study of the arts, and ask yourself this, ‘What is the first thing kids start to do in they’re learning years?’ That’s right… They draw or they paint. It’s the formation of their view of the world. To take is away as they grow older is a terrible thing.

We have to do something to support the arts. ’”

Again Mardy hits the nail on the head. He is not saying that we all have to become a Picasso, a Mozart or a Tolstoy. What he is saying is this; in his words, “We have to learn to think outside of the box, and the arts teach us how to do that.”

He ups the ante, “On top of losing the arts, our kids are loosing touch with human contact, burying their faces into texting and video games. The pace is speeding up, families don’t sit together art the dinner table any more.”

We have heard this techno worry from over 75% of our 365 friends. Evidence enough, I’ll leave it at that for now.

“What about the future Mardy, Where do you think we are heading?”

With expected Mardy passion, “The way we are going…? There will be no middle class. There will be only two classes, and the middle class will become either the elite or the poor.

Even today the middle class is paying for the mistakes and greed of the rich, and also the middle class is left to carry the weight of paying for the benefits to the poor.”

Mardy has equally strong comments regarding big business and politics.

“I’ve got a problem with corporate America, it is only worried about how it can give less and make more.

And what’s sad about it is that the number one export in America is jobs.

I’d be happy to pay more if it would provide jobs for the unemployed and stimulate the economy.

Our leaders will always make mistakes, we have to accept that, but they need to admit to it. Not cover it up.

A good idea is a good idea, it does not matter what party it comes from.

For a better future, we all need to just work together. And the politicians are here to serve the people. Not to serve themselves. That’s what we vote for.”

In finishing Mardy reflects, “Being an artist is like being Christopher Columbus… It’s scary, it’s uncomfortable, but that’s what keep me alive!”

For any of you are local and would like to meet Mardy or see his artwork, visit the Conaga Park Art Walk, This Thursday May 17, 6:00pm to 10:00pm. It looks like it will be a lively evening. I’ll be there, maybe I’ll see you!

I’m a little soft-hearted at the moment. Thoughts of my daughter race through my mind as I write the entry. I ask that you be patient in your reading, soon I will reveal the reasoning for the soft emotions I am feeling as I type. Emotions that reeling after leaving a doctor’s appointment in which I soothed the teary eyed fears of my injection fearing young girl.

We exit the medical complex and as my kid and I walk to get a gift shop treat, we encounter the welcoming exchange of Jonathan, who by courage is sharing his Christian beliefs with all who will greet eye line with him.

He is not threatening, defiantly void of aggression, and seemingly intent on knowing the community that passes by him.

Jonathan reaches out to us, and within minutes he, my daughter and I are engaged in a pleasant spiritual conversation.

“We are all called to evangelize, to love people enough to tell them the truth.” Jonathan encourages in proposing a very heavy question, “If you where on your way to hell… when would you want to be warned?” A very deep and self-reflective question, and one that brings pause to me in answering. And of course, there is only one obvious answer, “At that very moment.”

We begin a discussion of the nature of God, Repentance, Love, Forgiveness and the Role of Jesus Christ.

What is refreshing is that, even though Jonathan is powerfully convicted to his outreach, at no moment did he step on any one of my boundaries.

What I do experience is a two-way dialogue based on Jonathan’s reference of a very powerful teaching from Jesus, “To love your neighbors as you love yourselves.”

I did a little reading and found an applicable account of the premise.

From Luke (The New Testament): Chapter 10
A little background, Christ is talking to a group of educated men. Men, some of whom see Christ as a master teacher, as well as a threat to their power. During the discussion the following occurred.

“And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempted him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?

 He said unto him, What is written in the law? how readest thou?

 And he answering said, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself.

 And he said unto him, Thou hast answered right: this do, and thou shalt live.

 But he, willing to justify himself, said unto Jesus, And who is my neighbour?

 And Jesus answering said, A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead.

And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side.

And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side.

But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him,

 And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him.

And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.

Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?

And he said, He that shewed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.”

This story is so relevant in today’s world. Now I am not pointing any fingers in proclaiming any one faith in this post. But I will stand up in using Christ’s parable in referencing the actions of the lawyer, the Priest, the Levite and the Samaritan.

I’ll pose a question, which one of the four characters would we rather mirror in our life decisions? My hope is that we lean towards modeling the behavior of the Samaritan.

Trust me, I’m not saying that we should find ourselves in the midst of a mugging or in the depths of legal ease in questioning our own personal rights and wrongs. What I am saying is, in pondering the four characters in the story… who’s eyes are humble open to the world, and can we act similarly in our daily interactions with fellow-man.

Possibly, I could have run from Jonathan’s friendly hello and choose to wall my mind or profile the message of my blog. And yes, I could have made an argument for differing perspectives or try to manipulate Jonathan’s words for popularity, but what good would that do.

I openly express to Jonathan that our beliefs are 90% aligned. Would it have profited anyone for us to engage in a battle, even if we where 180% in differing spiritual outlooks? With that only conflict can be the resolve. And resolve that is not.

Jonathan is a good man, who is working with all his faith and might to proclaim a message that is close to his heart… Is that wrong?

He asks me, “Who is the most loved man of all time?”

Followed by, “Who is the most hated man of all time?”

In both the answer is universal, “Jesus Christ.”

Leaves us to consider a self-test, “Do we love, or do we hate?

Jonathan wears a logo on his shirt, “180movie.com.”

He give’s me a business card with a 180movie.com link, “If you do anything, you have to check it out… It will change your life.”

And even though I promise to link it to my blog, I’ll admit, initially I was a touch wary as to what I was about to post. Yet in respect to the integrity of Jonathan, I screen the documentary.

Jonathan is right. Here is where the welling up of my eyes in thinking of my daughter enters my story, and that, linked with my Jewish heritage, chokes me up.

“180” compares the genocide of Hitler to that of abortion. I know a very hot comparison, and a bold approach in linking the murder of millions of innocent people to that of the pro-choice debate. But in the 180 Movie, a possible solution is promoted, that of adoption.

Through a set of aggressive questions and historical explorations the documentary blends archived footage to the interviews of a variety of modern day citizens. And in doing so, it examines the worth of a life and the question of when does life actually begin.

A subject that is close to my family as we lost a pregnancy at six weeks; a blow that came as a terrible surprise after seeing a series of Ultrasounds of a healthy beating heart.

I’d be a complete liar to say that the experience was not a powerful blow to our faith. It was a pain equal to the loss of a walking breathing child, and since then we have not been able to conceive again.

Even today, my daughter refers to her as her lost sister Audrey. A sister that she says she will meet in heaven one day.

And per the choice of adoption, another point that hits directly home after screening the film. We are a family in the midst of serious consideration in bringing an adopted child into our home, and have done much research on the subject.

The worth of a life, and when it begins, is a gigantic topic. A topic riddled with war prompting pros and cons. Yet a fight that is fundamentally pure to answer with responsible birth control and compassionate support to those who are frightened and pregnant. And with this assertion, I’ll ready my email for a blast of, “I hate you Richard” comments. But if you choose to send one, please take into account, that I have a family, have lost a child, cast no judgment and position myself in accepting how, where and who you choose to worship and the lifestyle you follow.

Oh yea, I’m also OK with a few positive words as well.

I ask Jonathan for his vision of the future.

“I can’t answer for the future… that is not for us to decide…” Jonathan bids… “’…but I will say this, ‘Today is the day to get right with the Lord… Tomorrow is not promised to any of us.’”

Jonathan, you have opened your mouth and your heart to us all. It takes character to do that… And in your admonitions I can truly take heed in your proclamations of Christ…

“And he said, He that shewed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.”

We don’t all have to become best friends, not even casual acquaintances. But the more we empower ourselves to, without reticule, lust or contempt, put our feet in the shoes of other’s, working to do our part of building an accepting community while looking towards a greater God in having faith of what is to come. Then perhaps we may begin a path to having a broader understanding of what is to come.

Per Jonathan, “Tomorrow is not promised to any of us.”

I’m proud today, not puffed up in any accomplishment of my own, but in that of my nephew Aaron (not pictured), USC graduate with a Master’s Degree in Architecture. It a big accomplishment and accompanied by many departmental awards he has finished as one of the top in his class.

Post the ceremony we are invited to a hosted lunch to see the works of the graduates of 2012.

Equally proud families cluster in groups, all sharing tales of educational accomplishments, incurred student debt and endless “we made it!” hugs.

And as I sit enjoying my veggie wrap, apple and cookie, I strike up a chat with Thomas, co-supporter of the 2012 graduating class. He is impossible to ignore with his warmth of personality, but equal to that, the USC colors that he so comfortably wears have grabbed my attention.

I ask, “What words of council do you have for the world?”

Appropriate to the day, Thomas declares his charge, “Work hard and passionately on anything you do.”

Here is a funny, but kind of true side note… I later meet Thomas’ family, all as warm as he, all passionate to speak out and all smiling with joy for the day. His oldest daughter is in attendance and with tremendous wit, she gives us a short council, “Don’t be an ***hole! That’s it… and it’s that simple.”

We all break out into laughter as I tell her, that funny enough, over the last couple of weeks that exact sentiment has been at the top of the 365 responses. As harsh as it sounds, it’s really good straight advise… and as outlandish as it is, its possibly words to consider in making our daily decisions.

That said, lets step back from the silliness and pick it up in looking ahead.

Thomas defines his observance of society, “The reality is that the world is very confrontational.

So many people are black and white in their expectations. Basically, too many individuals believe they are right and everybody else is wrong. They pick their sides and are immovable. Therefore, to make any change… it’s almost war. And rather than each side listening to each side’s position or argument, they would rather blindly fight.

We need to realize we were all born into the same earth; and we all have to live together on the same planet. We all have to recognize we are all human.

Too many become self-centered in creating their own individual worlds and do not look out for the communities around them. This mentality has to change.”

Thomas and I share a nostalgic moment, “I remember my dad’s time and my life as a kid…” Thomas ruminates, “…it was different then. Businesses were not only about profit; they were more considerate of the fact that it was also about giving people jobs. Now new corporations are mostly concerned with making money and people are expendable. There are too many companies that lack humanity.”

Families are calling now, time to go see the works of our kids.

Thomas… Keep your positive perspective on society, and never forget, as told to us by many of our 365 friends, “The works of one are measurable.”

You point of view is impactful; it challenges us to listen, to respect each other and suggests to us a much fairer method of resolving conflict.

Thomas directs us to not necessarily feel like we have to perfectly agree as a whole. That would be an impossible task, and one that would run risk in suppressing the blessings of individuality.

What he is instructing is this… that we at least listen, and if we disagree, to take a fair stance in our lifestyles, our voting, and in finding ways to promote our causes that does not destroy others who are in differing courts.

I’m not saying that we ignore the intolerable, the murderous or any action that is an atrocity to humanity or the planet as a whole. But what is worthy of consideration is this, that in any war we choose to wage… we deeply explore all the sides of the conflict before we engage; and in that, we heavily consider the individuals involved in said conflict. It’s sad that too many times, innocents are lost in the shrapnel of the greedy or in through the proclamations of un-sounded opinion.

Today we celebrate a new generation of leaders at this USC graduation day. A day that, I’m sure, is being mirrored at many other educational institutions this afternoon.

And in this unified right of life starting, or life changing bon voyage… may we take example from its notions of solidarity, of hopefulness for the future and of its associated reflections on teamwork. All emotions that I am positive radiate from the list of campus’s conducting similar proceedings.

And with this example, shall we all choose to embrace one another in a cap throwing cheer and charge of passage.

The courtyards are clearing now, caps have settled, gowns returned and the podium seen its last commencement speaker or the season. But as we depart the grounds in symbolically honoring our personal campuses of life, we are reminded to review our diplomas of lessons learned.

Absolutely… we all have all studied different disciplines in our individual schools of situation, and in doing so, have all received certifications for endlessly varied courses of study.

Yet in all diplomas received this day, is inscribed one simple line of calligraphy.

That line, “Keep up the good fight.”

Thanks Professor Thomas! We here you loud and clear.

“Please don’t make me think about the future…!” long pause “…bottom line, the people are too complacent and I just want them to wake up!” Chimes Tasha, spokesperson for the self-titled “Patio Rats” in their nightly gather at, yes, I’m here again, Starbucks.

My philosophy this evening: “Sit down, shut up and listen.”

And with hot chocolate in hand, that is exactly what I do as I review my day, one that has literally been a historical and political feast.

So I sit, listening, resting after a days outing with my family at the Ronald Regan Library, as I collate the data that my mind has absorbed this day.

Flashes of the Cold War, The Berlin Wall, the military build up of the eighties, the era’s patriotism and the economic boom of the Regan administration.

Now before I go on, I must clarify that this entry is not written with any political agenda other than to report of the friends I have met. But what is relevant is the fact that, without my influence, tonight’s discussion mirrors the very nature of the exhibits I am coming from… That being… “We the people.”

And in honor of the theme, I inaugurate this hour as the Patio Rats debates, “Let us commence the proceedings?”

Tasha cracks the gavel and with her opening statement, and the summit opens, “I’m disgusted with the government and how separated we are by the political parties right now.

They care so much about their own political rightness and their quest for reelection that they ignore the people. How dare they take our money, our time and our input and do nothing for us!”

The gauntlet is laid down and the debates heat up, no topic is loosed: we chatter politics, explore the effectiveness of movements like Occupy Wall Street and the wasted costs of the movement, we reflect on the current economy, taxes, the state of healthcare, and the negative affects of self-entitlement vr. the empowerment of a unified people.

Vincent steps to the podium, “It’s about personal ethics and taking responsibility for your life.

You make your own decisions and you won’t necessarily get everything you want in life. But if you choose to work for what you want, you can get it. We’ve all had hard times, but hard work pays off. Just don’t be and ***hole.”

He throws a stab at politics, “It’s like the movie ‘Dawn of the Dead’ (referring to the democrats).”

Markus addresses the floor in offering a plea to the citizens, “We are all going to get tired of the way things are, and we will do something about it. I think that one day we will all stand up and fight.

People will say enough is enough. They will wake up from the last twenty years of shit.”

Starbucks store management breaks our caucus, “We are closing now; you have to clear the patio.”

With this Tasha leaves the closing argument, “They want us to lower ourselves to the lowest common denominator so that the little guy feels like a genius, rather than to aspire to greatness.”

“Aspire to greatness,” Tasha quotes. To not settle for mediocrity… or to be blindly herded… or to allow ourselves to be stripped of our agency to grow our own lives.

The Patio Rats have convened, and in the ending of their nightly conference have pushed us to consider our aspirations and what we intend to do with them.

In leaving I have been sworn into the group, and I’m sure we will be hearing from them again.

Talk tomorrow my friends.

It’s a hot, still aired and brightly sunny as I seek refuge, perching myself on a set of shaded bleachers that overlook a field where my heat-loving daughter is blissfully enjoying her soccer practice. Shakes my memory back to my Las Vegas days of youth, and of my baseball practices in similar weather.

I have this theory: “All people are born with a limited amount of hot weather credits. Credits that are theirs to use when, how and where they desire.”

Being raised in the deserts of Nevada, I must have used them all early in my life. At eight years old, barefoot runs on baking sidewalks drew no blisters. At thirteen, desert forts, or should I say rock ovens, provided a place of rest, and at fifteen, 112 degree marathon bike rides promised a fresh breeze in the face. Three digits were the name of the game with all of us summer-enjoying kids unrelenting in answering the call of the sun.

It is apparent that my kid has inherited my once golden skinned genes – other than her red cheeks, the heat of the day has not impacted her. However, I’m a different story, sitting idle, sun credits depleted, safely cocooned in the attitude protecting shade and enjoying the happenings of the day.

It’s blasting hot as I am approached by groundskeeper Darryl (not photographed), “You may want to move, I need to water the field and you’re probably going to get some over-spray.”

Salvation has arrived, yet in it, a bummer of a reality hits me. My MacBook is in lap and we all know that water and electronics don’t mix very well.

I move to a drier place next to the control panel where Darryl and his helper are positioned, monitoring the watering.

No big deal, more new friends to talk to. I tell them about 365.  Darryl, although very intrigued, chooses to pass on being interviewed, understandably, “I’m on the clock, but you should interview my volunteer Demi.”

Feeling a little sun beaten and unprepared to be photographed, Demi initially declines. So we just chat, Darryl, Demi and I, no pressure, no pull of coercion, other than my sincere compliment to Demi’s photogenic looks.

“I bet you tell that to everyone,” Demi harasses me.

Not really. I’m a beauty photographer and a portraitist. I’ve learned to call things as I see them. I never bag on people, but if I have something constructive to say, I’ll be the first to say it.

“Thanks you, made me feel better.” Demi confirms as she looks towards Darryl for approval.

“You should do it,” Darryl encourages.

Demi pauses, “OK, let’s do it!”

“You only live once, but I bet you hear that all the time?” She begins.

But with this Demi throws an action item, “Take advantage of every opportunity that is put in your way.

“Community service has opened me up, and drives me to want to do more for the community.”

At only twenty-four Demi show great maturity in her outlook; I see why Darryl pushes her to speak with us.

Demi describes herself, “I’m into the conspiracy theory.”

“Like how?” I ask.

“I don’t believe we are the only planet that has life on it, not that we have been visited or anything. But it just makes sense that there is life on other planets.”

“That’s not really conspiracy…” I comment, expanding my opinion, “… you’re not talking of a big cover up or hidden agenda. You are talking of something that many of us accept. Why with an infinite universe can anyone say that we are the only planet that can support life? Doesn’t make sense to me either.”

We smile in agreement.

Demi cares about people, manifest in her optimism for those who are hungry and unsheltered. “Hopefully in the next fifteen years we will have enough food in the world where no one will have to go hungry. More shelters and food drives for the homeless.”

One comment catches me a little curious. “We’ll have more billionaire inventors.”

“You mean like the guys who came up with Google, Facebook and that kind of billionaire?” I confirm.

“Yea, I want to see more people find success.” Demi clarifies.

I think I get it. What Demi is talking about is not corporate greed – really the reverse. What she is talking about is a future that is open to allow for the innovation and rewards of personal initiative. And in this randomly inserted wish for the next generations, Demi has empowered us in giving us license to dream.

“Life is too short to hold grudges or to be mean…” Demi advises.

“… I would hate to one day look back on my life and say I missed an opportunity to help somebody.”

The sprinklers stop and I know it’s time to wrap,

“Do you have any last thoughts you’d like to express,” I conclude in readying my camera to take our photos.

I begin to focus.

“I have one more,” Demi pauses her pose, “Be a giver… don’t be a taker.”

Demi, keep giving… All you do counts!

The scene: King Arthur and his nights have approached the French castle, and upon the Arthur’s claiming of the castle, the French guards react. Standing upon the top fortress’s wall and with broken French accent, they proclaim, “I don’t want to talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food trough wiper. I fart in your general direction. Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.”

You don’t frighten us, English pig dogs. Go and boil your bottoms, you sons of a silly person. I blow my nose at you, so-called “Arthur King,” you and all your silly English K-nig-hts.

No, now go away or I shall taunt you a second time.”

If any of you are Monty Python fans, you know the origins of the above dialogue – the 1975 classic film, “Monty Python and the Holy Grail.”

And in perfect British wit, This Python bit sets the stage in explaining the mindset I experience this evening in meeting today’s troupe of merry artisans.

Flash back… 7:00pm, I get this bright idea to do a nature hike, sure that I will walk into someone who is open to conversation. After all… everyone who is into nature is ready to share something…? Or at least I assume?

Half mile out from trail head I trudge, carrying my forty-five pounds of camera backpack, inducing my very patient lower vertebrate to shake its finger at me, “Dude! Pick up the pace and your attitude, I want to see feet moving and personality kicked into extrovert overdrive…Find a friend now! Or, I’m going to hurt you!”

Forty-five minutes I press, and after eight “thanks, but no thanks” conversations, I surrender to the darkening of the sunsets glowing sky in retreat to regroup at base camp car.

Crud! I’m on the edge of missing the sweet light of day’s end, and with this admission, my mid back cries out, “I don’t want to talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food trough wiper.”

My brain fights back in pulling another scene from its Python database. The words of the “Swamp Castle King” in speaking of his digs, “When I first came here, this was all swamp. Everyone said I was daft to build a castle on a swamp, but I built in all the same, just to show them. It sank into the swamp. So I built a second one. That sank into the swamp. So I built a third. That burned down, fell over, then sank into the swamp. But the fourth one stayed up. And that’s what you’re going to get, Lad, the strongest castle in all of England.”

My spine forgives me, “Carry on sir 365… I pledge alliance to your cause sire.”

… Back to present, and the fourth castle.

Safely buckled into my auto isolation… Trail behind me… The street light is out (just my luck)… and with cars self trafficking through the intersection, I am on hyper alert in focusing on the surroundings. A side hit right now would be icing on the cake of day ending to fast.

As I survey the situation in preparing for my pedal to the metal push for friendship, I scope the earlier mentioned troupe of merry artisans as they lean over the second floor of a corner office complex.

Now here is my French castle moment!

I reign my four-wheeled steed to a halt and with enlarged chest, I walk up to the “Fortress Office”, and standing at parking lot level I look up upon the walls, “Hail ye men, and women, of land unknown, wilt thou lay down thy opinion to the quest of crusade 365.”

We’ll, perhaps my words were a little watered down from that. But none-the-less, the risk feels the same.

Maybe I’m feeling a bit self-loathing after my preceding dismissals as I ready myself for my mocking’s in expanding my oration, “I query that thee not refuse me, for I have traveled many rejections to be here… and the quest is long. Lower your gates my good neighbors. Allow me to enter thy chambers in a token of solidarity… May our kingdoms unite?”

Hey, pretty snappy writing, don’t you think?

“Come forth my balding friend, we reach out our hands in acceptance of your request, enter thy gates.”

The courts have decided, and have welcomed me an audience. The trumpets sound, “We are the people of Hidden-LA, there is no peril before you Sir Richard, for we are the world of ink, and in that… the world of peace.”

Turns out I have run into a newly established tattoo salon and fine art gallery, and my new friends are as I aforementioned, an eclectic bunch of amazing artisans, and better yet, warm and ingratiating people of planet earth.

We get together as a parliament of sorts. No one individual takes the lead in the answering of any question. Concepts, ideas and personalities are jousted towards in fellowshipping me at a pace that is too astonishing to completely absorb, but here are a few brief notes that may shed some light on the culture of Hidden-LA and its population.

“The world of ink is a world of peace.”

“Keep your side of the street clean.”

“Stay hungry and be humble.”

“Be thankful for what we have, there is always someone with less.”

“Feelings are your friends.”

“Question everything.”

“Life is a garden…Dig it!”

“Dream big.”

“Get out of the kitchen, unless you are a woman…” “Ouch! That’s going to get us in trouble,” I suggest as the whole group laughs in receiving a thumbs up from its one female citizen.

“Keep learning. Learn a little about everything, not a lot about one thing.”

“Get tattooed more.”

“Tell the people that you love, that you love them.”

“Kids of today are getting brainwashed, they need to go outside and to not forget to be kids.” So much is this belief buried into the DNA of Hidden-LA that one of its owners, Brett, has dedicated a year of his life in publishing a coloring book. It’s intent is to not only expose children to a different kind of artwork, but more importantly, to give them an art outlet that pulls them away from the traps of a virtual life. Very cool stuff!

The pace slows down when addressing the future, city Hidden-LA huddles, and spokesman Brett speaks for the township, “Even with politics, and throughout any negative times, people will continue to slowly come together.

Hopefully we will still be here.”

Noble friends of Hidden-LA, I will again journey to your land, for it is a place of art, and a country of acceptance. For these things, I give you my gratitude in allowing me into your boarders.

Boarders that this un-tatted conservative hippy guy is now familiar with; boarders that I will certainly visit again …and that, my liege’s, is how we know the Earth to be banana shaped.

Late last night I receive a phone message, recorded at 10:47: “Yeah… I believe I’ve got the right number… this is Cowboy Bob… a friend of your 365… and you can call me back at this number, 000-000-0000… and I should be somewhere up near Platt all morning… I’d like to meet up with him maybe like 1 or 2 or 3… somewhere in that area… just have him call me sometime about noon or so… OK”

I know exactly who it is at first voice. Back to Pappy, our friend of day 234, at the close of our time together, he introduced me to the Cowboy. As I do with everyone I meet, I extended a hand of friendship by offering a 365 business card with an accompanied invitation to be interviewed. Bob is the first to accept the offer.

We catch up at an agreed upon location – a nearby park that is slowly becoming a base meeting place for several of our 365 meetings. So at an agreed 3pm, Bob and I sit for the beginning of a two-hour interview of which, in respect to keeping the word count manageable, I am only able to give you a thumbnail overview.

“I dressed up for you,” Bob interjects, extending his arms to showcase the leather work of his jacket, as we begin our dialogue. It’s a hot afternoon and the fact that he wears long sleeve leather is an indicator of the pride he has taken in being at his best in conversing with us.

Bob is nearly deaf so I ask minimal questions, leaning back to take note of his endless commentary.

Bob has seen a lot in his life, and just like Pappy, he is a protector of the streets. “Lots of people on the street call me Dad,” he proceeds in sharing his life story.

“They look at me like a dad – they adopted me.” The Cowboy stances as he tells me of one of his street adoptee’s: “One day I’ll introduce you to Joey, he is thirty-eight and just got a job. He got it at Kaiser. He needed medical help. Then they got him set up in assisted housing, and now they are giving him a computer job. Joey is a good kid and has a great story.”

The Cowboy goes on, telling me of others in his extended street family and of a range of situations. Things like, police abuse, gang influences and the difficulties for homeless women.

What impresses me is how connected Bob is. During our interview he accepts several phone calls from a few of his friends. One stands out, his current girlfriend, who in Bob’s words: “She is a sweet girl. I love her.”

After six years on the street, Bob and she are finding a roof over their heads at a local group housing facility; a facility that he thanks for the aid that they give to not only himself, but to the others whom he finds himself now cohabitating with.

Bob speaks of his history, “I was born in Saint Louis, Missouri. My dad was gone early in my life. I think he went to Indiana. My mom became bedridden with varicose veins. That is when a Los Angeles couple, through the system, adopted me. I was about ten.”

They wanted to change my name, but that ended up not happening. My mom named me after the Robert E. Lee riverboat. I remember standing on the river and crossing a bridge that is long gone. They tore it down to build the arches. That is why I love the riverboat at Disneyland; it brings back good memories. My mom was a beautiful woman; I’ll never forget her red hair.”

“Were your adoptive parents good parents?” I question.

“Not at all!” Bob reacts, “They claimed they were Christians, but they weren’t. They beat us, locked us in rooms. At the time we were too scared to tell anyone.”

In saying, “Us,” Cowboy Bob refers to his two brothers. “I stay in touch with my brother William, he is a good guy. My other brother is demented and I don’t know where he is.”

They say the sins of the parents fall on the children, and in hearing of Bob adoptive parents, my stomach turns to even think of the pains that the Cowboy has endured in his childhood. But there is a silver lining to the story, “They tried to break me, but I never lost faith, and I have to give credit to the grandmother from my adopted mother; she was good, and also my real mother’s mom, they taught me the real God, and to stay away from drugs and alcohol.”

“Later in life I found my drug, riding bulls and motorcycles,” Cowboy Bob admits as he makes a joke, “It was safer than dealing with California drivers.”

Our conversation continues, jumping from subject to subject:

“I played harmonica with many bands in various country clubs.”

“I was a bodyguard for wrestlers (I was a tiny guy, that is what scared people)”

“All single moms should learn martial arts.”

“I was married twice, loved my wives, but they passed away.”

Married twice? The doors to a deeper inquiry swing wide open. And with that exposed and the day getting late, I offer Bob a ride to his shelter. As we walk to the car we begin our dialogue regarding his later life history. We start from the present and work backwards.

“My Wife died 6 years ago,” Bob opens up. “That is when my homelessness started. We had an apartment and I was told that legally I had six months to vacate. But the police came, and with all the neighbors fighting for me, they hand cuffed me; then forced me out of my apartment. They took off the handcuffs and at gunpoint forced me across the street. All of my possessions, even my briefcase with my paperwork was left behind. I’ve been homeless since.

Later I got a motor home, same stuff happened. It was impounded for expired tags, even though they were current. DMV said I was legal and needed to go to the Spring Street court to work it out. I called the impound; they told me my motor home would not be sold. I went to court the next day, then to the impound. When I got there they told me they sold my home the day before for $75. Everything I had was in it.

I was trying to get back to Arizona, where I lived with my first wife. It is a better place for the homeless. But after I lost my motor home I had no way of getting there.

The police in Reseda and Van Nuys are very tough on the homeless. I’m just trying to survive.”

“I remember living in Arizona and Utah with my first wife.” He tells me of his homes and of his Palomino horses, “Oh they were beautiful playing in the snow, we used to just sit back a watch them in the winter. Those were great days.”

Bob tells us of his children, two of which he is still in contact with.

“We home schooled and my kids made it. At sixteen, my youngest daughter had twelve teaching units. Now at 41 she is married with two daughters and works as a pastry maker.

“My eldest daughter was working in veterinary clinics at seventeen, now she is a pharmacist.

“I lost track of my other daughter.”

In two hours there is no way I can really know Bob’s true history, but in all that he says it is not to me to judge or to make assessments. So the contrast in knowing the whereabouts of only three of his children, to that of loosing one is subject to no conditions.

I myself had several years in which I estranged myself from my parents. And that was in the best of circumstances. So there can be no blame placed without fully knowing the story. So all I can say is, request a hopeful perspective from all of us that Bobs missing daughter is OK.

Bob councils us, “Stick to the Bible… God’s word, and keep up the faith. Try not to get mixed up with all the different beliefs. Lean on God’s words. All these rumors of the world ending are wrong… it is only going to be the beginning.

“Prayers and keeping the faith is very important. God will give the strength and the power.

“You have to understand other people’s beliefs, so you can get alone or know how to protect yourself. And find people you can trust to council with.

“It will get worse before it gets better.”

The topic turns dark for a final push of advice, “I see people tattooing their children, that is what drugs and the devil does.

“People need to think of the children and their children’s future. And to do that… the people need to straighten up.

“My kids made it!” Cowboy Bob bears.

A point that drives deep into my heart. Like I noted earlier, “There is no way I can really know Bob’s true history.”

I’m absolutely certain that Bob has had a difficult life; a life that I can only assume would have easily crumbled many. I have a belief that none of us are given any hardship that we cannot bear. And, after speaking with so many people of the streets, I am coming to an awareness of the strength of character it takes to merely survive without a roof overhead.

To find a man who speaks responsibly of parenthood, of marriage and of faith. And a man who is continually striving to better his situation is a man to be respected.

Cowboy Bob, hats off to you, keep riding my friend.