Fine Art

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.

“People are getting crammed closer and closer together, you start to realize that people are more dependent on people. I don’t know if they will realize that soon enough,” answers street performer Lou, a native Californian, regarding his observations of people.

It’s 9pm and the sidewalk is just starting to get busy with weekend traffic. Center to its building-up energy is Lou – quite, respectful and full of music to share with all who take time to stop to listen and talk with him.

I don’t know Lou at all, but there is a ray of hope that exudes from him. It’s like a subtle, yet tangible spark that draws me to him. A feeling that I am still in the infancy of understanding, but a feeling that has been present with every person who has stepped up to embrace the 365 invitation. And a feeling that, for the month of May, has been challenged to you to follow in navigating your every day lives.

With that, let us all call May the month of reaching out, and the challenge is to simple say hello to all in your path.

As Lou tells us in his above advice, “People are getting crammed closer and closer together, you start to realize that people are more dependent on people. I don’t know if they will realize that soon enough.”

In honor if his time, lets us all realize it for at least a month. Perhaps after that it will become second nature to us in passing on that message in our lives.

“OK, enough evangelizing Richard, tell us more about Lou.”

To start, Lou is very humble, warm and carries a calming deep voice. That accompanied by the depth of an ingratiating laugh captures the heart.

It blows me when Lou brings me up to speed by informing me that he has regularly posted himself at our meeting location, outside of one of my noted Sushi restaurants, for two and a half years.

It’s a wonder to me that, until now, Lou’s folk performances have gone unnoticed by me. I’ll not miss him again. And in meeting him, I’m happy to report that my community has once again reduced its size.

In respect to Lou’s livelihood I purposefully keep our time short. Funny thing how a cameraman can put a damper on business, and I don’t want to push too many people away from Lou’s audience.

“People should pay taxes to the proportion of their total wealth,” Lou proposes as he suggests, “We should move toward universal health care for free.”

An interesting premise – not sure if the extremely rich would agree with it. And, being firmly strapped in the middle class, I’ll be the first to admit, that although I am full of opinion on the subject, that perhaps the need for better health care vs. the power of big business in legislation is a viable argument for reform in heath care. A debate that is far too vast for my little blog, but maybe Lou is not that far off base. We’ll leave it at that.

Lou makes a sobering prediction for the future, “There will be twenty billion people on the earth and 1/3 of them will still be starving.”

I don’t know of Lou’s history, of his circumstances or of his religion. However, in speaking with him, I capture the vibe of his priorities in his response to my question, “What do you in see as people as they pass by?”

“It’s just people,” he tells me.

I’ve been on the streets since September 9, 2011, approaching close to 1500 people, and in that have interviewed a much smaller number. The conversations have been awesome. While in reaching out I have also been saddened to be ridiculed, verbally attacked and virtually ignored as non-existent on many an occasion.

All in all, it has been a great experience for the undertaking, rejections and acceptance.  I can honestly say that my eyes are greatly opened to the uniqueness of all people – approachable to distant.

However, I am not certain that as Lou has for years been interacting within the world of strangers in sharing his talents and message of unity, that I would still possess his powerfully accepting outlook of, “It’s just people.”

I show Lou a digital preview of the photos I take of him. “Yeah… That’s me,” he serenely smiles.

Lou’s smile is captivating; it is not forced or self-propelling. It draws you to him in a comforting way, and through it you can understand the sensitivity he seemingly subscribes to. The only regret I have in meeting Lou is that I do not fully capture his warming smile or laugh in picture, you just have to trust me that is does exist.

“What is you favorite piece of music?” I ask.

His reply might possibly express the side of him that I miss capturing through our snapshots. That music, although a little off base to the world of folk, addresses the nature of Lou, “Where is the Tenderness, by General Public.”

The song’s lyrics tell about a man who really needs tenderness to feel like a man. Here are a few lyrics from the song.

I don’t know when to start or when to stop
My luck’s like a button
I can’t stop pushing it
My head feels light
But I’m still in the dark
Seems like without tenderness there’s something missing

I don’t know where I am but I know I don’t like it
I open my mouth and out pops something spiteful
Words are so cheap, but they can turn out expensive
Words like conviction can turn into a sentence

“Words like conviction can turn into a sentence.”

Lou wishes me, “Good Luck” as I depart.

In life we have two choices:
“What is the most important thing to have?”
“What is the most important thing to lose?”

Questions that Ronnie leans on in navigating his life decisions.

“I came to the United States in 1978 when the revolution started in Iran and as I was accepted to college,” Ronnie introduces himself as we sit for a mall chat.

An entrepreneur, Ronnie is the owner of two Subway sandwich stores. But in the telling of his history it is quickly apparent that the pursuit of wealth is the farthest from his priorities.

“I have two franchises…” Ronnie tells us “… this one barely breaks even and it is a good thing that I have the other, but together they bring in enough for my families needs.

Money is not the most important thing.”

Leads me to inquire, “What is the most important thing, Ronnie?”

Ronnie responds in narrative form, “I remember when I was young, my neighbors were part of my family, and my family was very close.

I prioritize my job as second to my family.”

A life commitment that is telegraphed in Ronnie’s account of the choices that led him into the business of making lunch, “Years ago I sold my business and started something different that would allow me time with my kids.

My family is the most important thing in my life, and my wife and I do all that we can to spend time with our children.

Our basic priority is to always have dinner together. It is our time to talk, and from it, we are very close.”

We have spoken of family quite a bit throughout 365. And the definition of family has been explored in many ways. We’ve covered the spectrum, from families of birth right to families of association. In all is the evidence of a fundamental shared human trait: To be part of something more than the materialistic self. To be accepted, loved  and nurtured in one-way or another.

A premise that Ronnie subscribe to in his observations of the world, “People are more behaved now, more courteous and careful not to hurt another person.

I see how parents are trying to take care of their kids, and a society that more than ever does not let the kids be abused.

We are heading in a good direction, but the news tries to get attention on the negative.

It’s like, if a dog bites a man… that is no big deal… but if a man bites a dog, people pay attention.

Television is always trying to find the man who bites the dog in trying to shock us.”

“Where are we heading?” I ask Ronnie.

“It’s a revolution of information and we are all becoming one. The economy is not as bad as it was thirty years ago,” Ronnie begins as he projects ahead fifty years.

“In fifty years, life will probably be similar. Over the past fifty years we have had the best of everything. Technology will continue to grow, but we have already discovered so many of the life changing basics.

The biggest thing I see is that the people will be better.

The law is getting stronger and stronger, and it is no longer and eye for an eye.”

Ronnie counsels us, “The simple life is better”, as he departs his closing wisdom, “Never put your head on the pillow with worries.”

Ronnie introduced us to two choices:
“What is the most important thing to have?”
“What is the most important thing to lose?”

Simple questions with not so simple answers, and in giving them to us, Ronnie has shaken our minds a little. He calls us to take a quite moment of thought this evening. To reflect as we rest our heads down to sleep, “Do I have any worries…? And, if so… how can I lose them?”

In a small park far away from persecution, in a community unaffected by hunger and thirst, and with a group of families who in most respects have led a life not in need of the basic necessities, is found a spring of compassion.

A fountain of humanity that pours forth via no means of engineering or powered by any aquifer; but, rather an unstoppable source of outreach that flows through the minds and efforts of a special group of children this day.

A congregation of tomorrow’s leaders for a new world… and today, a gathering of what I have to refer to as, “My hero’s.”

“Where might we be?” you ask.

It’s our weekly park day, a day, where throughout the school year, fifty or more families gather in coming together in unity and education; a group of much diversity and life histories, yet today a group that has joined in one objective, to raise money to build wells in Sudan.

The brainchild not of the adults in this weekly community, but a project conceived by the very children (most of whom are under twelve years of age) we as adult are raising and chaperoning this day.

They have titled the day, “Walk for Water,” in doing their best to emulate the conditions that the children in Sudan suffer as they walk over two hours, up to twice a day, carrying water to their villages. Water that at many times is unclean and diseased.

So to be part of an assembly of not only informed, but well-researched children, who have all bonded together to do works of good is quite inspiring.

For reference, here are a few statistics on the water crises in Sudan:
• 12.3 million people only have access to contaminated water
• 30% of the rural population and 40% of the urban population have clean drinking water
• Only 5% of Khartoum’s population has access to a central sewage system
• Only 20% of rural dwellers have some form of sanitation services (usually pit latrines)

All facts that many of today’s walkathon kids know, and facts that are the result of following the first inspiration to organize this fund-raising event, the works of Salva Dut, a man featured in Linda Sue Park’s novel “A Long Walk To Water.”

Dut’s history in itself is cause for applause, but the important celebration this day is the walkathon that is occurring in his behalf. Uncountable numbers of children have pledged, even found sponsors to contribute dollars to the distances that they have committed to in carrying gallons of symbolic water. Water ranging in weight from one-half gallon to three gallons; water that they have pledged to feel the weight of for four miles of park laps; water that with blistered hands they unceasingly move forward in tribute in raise money to send to the Water for South Sudan Foundation.

A foundation that, as the brainchild of Dut, has one major goal: To save lives, build communities and to give rest and health to the many families and children of Sudan. Families and children who on a regular basis must trek a path that is not optional; but, fundamentally required for their literal existence.

I call these kids, “My hero’s.”

There is one child who grabs my attention, I young boy (he’s about six, for hours he has been dedicated to the weight of one gallon. I question the source of his tenacity, and in doing so; I have the privilege of meeting his mum… and fellow Brit, Jessica.

In Jessica’s opening words I quickly understand the origins of the special charisma that this young child so gracefully strides with, it’s a reflection of his parent’s outlook.

“Do what is right rather than what is expected,” Jessica challenges.

And although Jessica shares her sentiment with the humblest of tones, I take the liberty to upgrade her thoughts to a challenge, “You don’t have that opportunity every day of your life, every moment is an opportunity, and someone is always watching,” Jessica expands as she give credit to whom she refers to as her ultimate teacher… Jesus Christ.

Now here is her key to embracing the world, “Know that you are loved. And that love is a divine love just for you, and in that, there is a divine purpose in knowing god and being known by god.”

I’m sure we have all had our moments of feeling alone, or have got caught up in the fury of life’s pace and influences. Jessica refers to it as the machine in suggesting a self-reflection for us all, “Most of us have figured out that the machine does not satisfy…” she encourages.

“…And to make decisions based not on ones own good, but sacrificially for the good of others, this is the greatest of freedoms.

The way the world is currently heading is dangerous. We have to be careful not to live a life based on what we do… or on what we want, instead of living a life based on what we can give.

We can never know what is good for everyone else. That is judgment. God’s plan is to prosper us… not harm us.

 So if we listen to what the God of love wants for others, then through us, He can give it.

It is not about us knowing what is the best for those around us, it is about our ability to listen.”

As stated by Dep Tuany, Former Vice President, Water for South Sudan, 2009 – 2010, “Regardless of your cultural, tribal and religious belief, it all about humanity.”

Jessica, thank you for uplifting us with your faith in humanity. We will do our best to honor you.

Two days ago we met veteran of the streets, Pappy. What I did not let you in on was the fact that we were not alone. With us was John, not homeless, but on the fringe of living on the streets.

Today, I catch up with John and have the privilege to tell a little of his story.

“My fall is temporary and it’s very humbling,” John starts off.

“This is not me. I’m a former professional, even a future professional. I didn’t ask for this.”

John’s story is a story that many of us, I’m sure, can relate to. It all began in 2008, the fist wave of this difficult recession we are still healing from. At that time he was working data entry at Blue Cross.

“I was beginning to have terrible back pain,” John reflects. And that, added to the demands of a less than compassionate boss, led to an immense stress load that deepened his physical pain.

“I got medical aid and it was diagnosed that I had three bulged disks, all lower back, and all aggravated by prolonged sitting.”

Luckily for John, at the peak of his physical therapy treatments he was transferred to a new division where his new bosses were understanding of his condition.

“They were great — set me up with an ergonomic workstation and for a few years managing my pain and work stress was tolerable”

But in perfect recession form, the company reorganized and John found himself under the management of his previous, uncaring supervisor.

“She wrote me up several time for various incidents, and with the promise of a positive review in a few months, I worked even harder to correct the write ups. The three months passed and upon excelling in my numbers, I received zero acknowledgment.

“I looked around the department and everyone was unhappy, literally working with their shoulders slumped,” John leans his forehead on his hands to illustrate the general posture of the department.

“My pain was coming back, but esteem was being destroyed and enough was enough. I had to prioritize my mental and physical health. I gave my notice.”

John’s story is a step into a perfect storm.

First Gust: Pain and stress leading to resignation of employment.

Thunder: Sister who he shared residence with runs up unrecoverable debt load.

Lightening Strike: Father who was helping financially and emotionally, dies suddenly.

The Flood: Bills become overwhelming — house is repossessed.

The Landslide: John finds himself and dependent sister destitute and on the edge of homelessness.

At the time of this writing the streets are only inches away from John and his sister. They are literally squatting in the home that they had spent years paying a faithful mortgage.

“We’ll stay as long as we can, until they throw us out. The realtor has been pretty cool, but he cannot hold off the bank forever. I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d ever be in this situation. It’s very humbling.”

I ask John for his council to us, “’It may sound obvious to say, ‘I believe in God’”

He takes a short pause to think in growing his advice, and then gives us this, “You need to look into yourself and learn to draw on the power within you to do what you need to do… but you have to want to do it. It is almost like a calling.”

We sit and talk of options, some John has attempted, some are new to his ears. But in all John shines a willingness to do whatever is takes to avoid what he refers to as the “H” word.

John talks of society, “I will never look at people the same, and I’ve learned a lot hanging out with Pappy. He has looked out for me and I will always appreciate him for that. I can only look at this chapter of my life with open eyes and have grown to appreciate charity, as hard as it is to accept.”

I ask my final question, “What do you see for the future of the planet and the people on it?”

John Answers, “We’ve survived as a planet. We’ve gone through a lot. I don’t think it is as dire as we think it is. I think if we are good enough to each other that we can survive. In the end we will be OK.”

I share the seventeen dollars I have in my pocket, as I wish John all the luck he deserves.

John, I’ll do what I can to watch your back, my friend.

What I’m loving about 365 is the open forum it is becoming. And with it, my wish for all who are traveling with us on this journey of friendshipping is that we are all-absorbing the unique perspectives from so many individual people. All people, who in one-way or another are mostly living under the radar of public exposure; it is this fact that many have commented. 365 is about real people… people as they are and speaking for what they believe.

And it is these brief glimpses into the minds, and experiences, of those who have courageously stepped forward in allowing us to hear their words that has brought us together. After all, “We are all in this thing together.”

It is in that charge of unity that today, when upon my family’s arrival home from morning errands accompanied by my wife’s subsequent announcement, “You’re 365 guy is outside… go now!” that I leave my desk to say hello to Daniel… ice cream man and modern-day patriot.

With unstoppable energy Daniel launches into a storm of concern, opinion and research with an opening statement, “We have to not allow ourselves to be shut down by agencies that are starting socialism.

All the pieces are there, are we going to let society to become categorized and labeled?”

Daniel does not filter his advice with popular redirect and leans towards the example of Martin Luther King in charging a vigilant cry to action, “If Martin Luther King did it… we can do it too!

The truth is there, we just have to speak out!”

Daniel speaks of Monarch Mind Control Manipulation and positions that the political parties have built-in order to divide the country. “They keep the chaos,” he warns.

“TV and media are big part of it… Turn the TV off…  Go outside of your house… Meet your neighbors… And do it now!

This town was built on us.

We don’t need to be divided by politics, or hidden agendas, we need to come together and respect each other in treating each other the way we want to be treated. It’s all about having and living by good moral values.”

In this, Daniel references a point in history, “Look at President Kennedy’s speech on secret societies and oaths, he spoke out and it got him assassinated.”

“We have to come together as a people. There is hope for a united world. But if we don’t do anything…

…We will end up either 1984 mind controlling microchips… or it going to be a non-existent earth, with dust and solar storms.”

“The choice is ours!” Daniel concludes as he references a famous line from the film Network News, “We’re mad as hell… and we’re not going to take it anymore!

I’m going to make today entry quick and simple, it’s my wife’s birthday and after 232 days of co-marriage to 365, I feel it only fair to be as brief as I can in my writing today.

Yet to be too brief would also be unfair to my new friend Casey, whom I meet during a short neighborhood stroll.

In four beats, here is how I meet her.

Beat One: Walk with wife to visit a family friend.

Beat Two: At arrival of friend’s house, take short leave of absence to trek the neighborhood (Got to love my better half’s support of 365)

Beat Three: Approach unknown neighbor as he arrives home (Jeff, not pictured), and although interested in the project, Jeff declines, saying, “Let me get my wife, she will interview with you, ” and disappears into his house.

Beat Four: Upon the decline of Jeff’s wife (got to give here a break, she has just returned home from a fourteen hour work day), family friend Casey, our enthusiastic new friend to 365, emerges out the front door of Jeff’s residence.

The sun is dropping fast and all of us, although engaged in new friendship, are ready to settle into our own personal family time.

Casey is very interested in our mission of uniting a community, and something about her is captivatingly positive.

“What words of wisdom would you like to share with the world?” I ask.

“Can I be short and to the point?” Casey requests.

“Whatever you want to say, there are no rules,” I assure her.

Turns out that Casey is a mother of three and her advice is to that point. “Love your kids… they grow up very fast… you don’t want to miss any of their life.”

I think you will agree that there is not much more I can say to embellish on Casey’s council.

In looking at the future,  “The world is in the last days, the Mayan calendar ends December 21, 2012, and I think that will be the end of the world.” Smiling, Casey adds, “That is also my oldest son’s birthday.”

“Are you frightened for what’s to come?” I follow-up.

With a completely relaxed persona Casey easily replies, “Doesn’t bother me, I live my own life and do my best to be positive for all that is to come. There is nothing to worry about.”

In her own words, “Life is too short to be an ***hole.”