SOCIAL CLIMBING DOWN

In Homeless Nation, it really does matter where you are from.  That is, which economic, ethnic, cultural and social strata you were associated with before you made your entry into what  at first appears to be the dark side of the moon. 

Whatever lifestyle, what ever your level of understanding of the nuances which separate people in the outside world, you need to learn to be flexible in Homeless Nation, because it's unlikely you will be associating with the same kind of people you associated with out there. Unless you were in a nut house.

But even in Homeless Nation there are cliques and pecking orders and yes, snobs.

The thing to do is to figure out which clique or rung on the pecking order or snobs you want to hang - or if you prefer, socialize - with.

This is important because you will definitely be associated, in the minds of the law,  and future possible employers and  with whichever clique or group you choose to be with, as being one of them.

First there are the old-timers. People who have been on the street for so long, they have forgotten about life on the other side.  Some of them even have some money coming in, but they prefer that  sleeping spot under a favorite bush in the park, and the once-a-month blow-out in a cheap motel with some other old-timers, and then the rest of the month eating at feeds and begging a few quarters here and there. 

Avoid them.

Then there are the chippers.  The people who blast in and out with nary a clue as to what they have gotten themselves into, primarily because they are very young and the thing that landed them in Homeless Nation was an ill-timed remark to a parent or a spouse. 

They like the illusion of the freedom of the streets compared to the  discipline, the rituals or obedience required to live in any reasonable domestic situation.  They leave soon, usually after a missed step into the dark side of homelessness  has left them with a black eye and a longing for their favorite dinner at home.

Avoid them.

And how about those shelter rats.  They are a hybrid of the old-timers and the criminal fringe and they slink from shelter to shelter, using up their allotted nights staying in what can only be described as the hotel from hell plus danger.  This situation can become too easy for you and instead of finding your way out of Homeless Nation, you will find youself on a hampster wheel of flophouses with fancy religious names.

Avoid them and the shelters.

The criminal fringe.  Most of their conversation revolves around how to secure the next four-pak, or rock, or blow or chieap liquor.  Most of them have tats.  Prison tats.  They are high on the police radar and for good reason as most of them are frequent fliers into the nearest jail, and have prison time to boot and are habitual offenders. They will give you the shirt off your own back, and your wallet with it, and cut you for both if they  have to.

Avoid them.  In fact, run from them.

The snobs.  Most of them have some kind of income.  And they hang together, too. 

But they go to movies and read and find time to do things which will prepare them for re-entry into the real world, like staying off the four-pak, rock, liquor cycle and showing respect for the dignity of others.

And they are usually actively looking for employment and are convinced they will find work even if it takes forever. 

They do not beg for money, or hustle for money, and they usually do not like to loan or give money. And they do not steal.

And when they attend feeds and other events meant to help them, they show respect and thnakfulness for the good people who go out of their way to give of themselves to lend a helping hand.

They are shunned by the criminal fringe, the shelter rats and the old-timers because they are viewed as, well as snobs.

Stick with them.

In all likelihood, you probably shared some similarities in the outside world.

Like, decency and honesty and integrity.  And a good work ethic.

Funny, even in Homeless Nation there is social ladder, up and down.

OCCUPUPPY

When a Street Puppy becomes weary of dodging the cops and traffic and needs a rest from the uncertaintities which accompany living on the street, and cannot take a well earned rest at a spa, a good idea would be to take a breather at a place one would least expect to find a Street Puppy mixing it up with others.

An activist group who are protesting something.  Maybe it's the scones at the Starbucks,  their college allowance got cut to a hundred bucks a day, or the lack of a union for left-handed daisy pickers, or maybe they just get bored with their lives and want to protest something.

Doesn't matter.  These people always have a camp.

And camps always have tents, and a communal kitchen, and a water hose that's good for showering the dirt off your feet....and tents.

Now, in order to fit in to these camps, one must learn to dress and speak the language of people who usually occupy the protest camp.

In other words, dress down.

Find a few real old tie-dye t-shirts, some floppy sandals, baggy shorts, and don't even think about underwear.

Then, maybe, depending upon what the protesters in the camp are protesting, you might want to think about a nose ring.  And one through the lip.  And for sure the ear.  We know, it hurts, but you can always remove it later, and it will signal to the others around the campfire that you are one of them and haven't come to tap their phone, or take their picture for the FBI.

You're going to have to speak their language, even if it takes a day to catch on.  "Dude," is good, and used frequently to address men and women, usually because in some protest camps, one cannot detect by dress or hair growth just which gender you are speaking to.  Also, "Bro."

Other than those two words, not much else is necessary as they usually begin and end every sententence.  But be sure you know the how to prounce capitalism, and the phrase 'police state'.  Those are the two most used words outside of Dude and Bro, and it should get you by.

And speaking of police state.  You will most likely be encountering police a lot during your stay at the camp.  They are suspicious of these people, sometimes for good reason.  Don't  use your cell phone a lot, the whole area is probably tapped, in an effort to determine if the residents are intending to take over the government.

Not to worry.  Most people in protest camps can't run their own camp, so it's unlikely any of them will be  running for public office.  Unless it would be for the office of  vice president of postage stamps.

Stay away from the power struggles.  There are many, and these people are terrific back-biters, and as Henry Kissinger is so fond of saying, "These kind of struggles are so vicious because the stakes are so small.

Don't overstay your welcome.  Two weeks to a month should do it.  In fact, that is about how long you can live on the food, it is invariably Vegan. 

Then, back to the street, to the spot, the sleeping bag, the feeds, and you will be better off for it if only because all that Vegan food you were eating resulted in a loss of twenty pounds, so, now you are going to be able to fit in to those real small Calvin Klein levis you find at the next thrift store.

Have fun, and remember to keep a sense of humor.

BROKEN WINDOWS

Streetpuppies roll in from so many strata of society -social, economic, ethnic, cultural, - it's hard to track the actual path into and out of their place in Homeless Nation.

There are no geneological or biological or DNA or genome hints as to the heriditary nature of the state of homelessness.

However, we have thought of one marker which can tell the whole story with one look.

Broken windows.

Every Streetpuppy has broken windows. 

Broken windows through what slipped that part of their life which led them onto the path right to the front door of Homeless Nation.

Whether the windows were broken by economic, social, cultural, financial, or mental troubles or disparities, they shattered and let  the  unfiltered, harsh light  of the reality of hard times into a life.

One of the problems with broken windows, is that they attract more broken windows, since, people will tend to break a window which already has one shattered pane....what's the harm of breaking the pane next to it? 

Especially people who are being paid to fix the broken windows, the thinking being, 'if this window gets fixed, I don't get paid to fix anymore windows.' 

Or, even better -or worse -spread some litter on the ground around  the broken windows so as to make a complete picture of utter carelessness and destruction which has led to the breakdown of an entire structure...or person. The thinking being, 'may as well, spread the responsibility, and the bucks paid for fixing this person, and it may take a long time to do it.'

Now, you can't really 'fix' a broken window.  Unless it's in a car, and that's a whole different story.

You can replace a broken window, but you cannot fix a broken window.

And you need to replace a broken window as soon as possible, in order to prevent the harsh light of those realities of hard times into a  life.

And to prevent the accumulation of litter and more broken windows which always follow the breaking of just one window.

And that means, that the work must start very early in life. 

All this to say, the majority of Streetpuppies are probably way past the age of being 'fixed.'

All of the social agencies, agencies, officials and politicians and do-gooders need to shift their efforts
to preventing broken windows, not fixing them.

And that's not going to happen.

Thus, every Streetpuppy has to look at his/her own broken windows, which have probably accumalated a lot of accompanying litter -such as broken bottles, smashed beer cans, crack pipes, and pill bottles -and replace those windows.

Replace those windows which resulted in a damaged soul reeling from the on set of all of the harsh realities of hard times, with faith and courage and hard work. 

What a task, you say.

And it certainly is.  And the sooner you get started, the better.

Start with all of the accompanying litter of the broken bottles, smashed beer cans, crack pipes and pill bottles.

It could be the beginning of the path out of Homeless Nation.

FOOD GROUPS FOR STREETPUPPIES

The USDA does not have diplomatic relations with Homeless Nation.

We mean to take that up with our own diplomatic relations office.  As soon as they get out of jail for trespassing on your porch.

In the meantime,  seeing as how we cannot communicate with the USDA, and bowing to increasing pressure from hospital ER's, free clinics, the local 7-11  owner who has far too much merchandise swiped from his counters by Streetpuppies, and people just tired of looking at their local panhandler who is usually emaciated, we have put our heads together to come up with dietary guidelines for Streetpuppies so that we can all eat better, feel better, look better, and stop swiping food from the local 7-11.

Now, at the top of the food group list, we are going to include all of the things one finds on the USDA pyramid (see above) and lump it into one group.

DUMPSTER DIVING.    Yes, you can find all of those pyramid foods in any dumpster. Especially behind restaurants, and in the alleys behind the houses of the middle and upper middle class.  However, you need to check the expiration dates.  If there is no such date on the food you find in that ratty old dumpster, just smell it.  If the aroma doesn't knock you on your butt, it's ok.  Also, watch out for anything that is green, and make sure that it is naturally green and not covered with mold. Mold is not a food group except for other molds.  Ditto for gray.

NASTY BOLOGNA SANDWICHES.  They are plentiful and easily recognizable as they all come in little brown paper bags given out at every feed and sometimes just randomly on the street from some well meaning citizen who is feeling guilty about something and goes into his kitchen to make something nice for the little homeless people.  Usually  they have little pieces of mystery cheese sticking out the sides.  Now, take that sandwich, stick it in your backpack, let it simmer a few days until the bologna curls up outside the bread. Yum.

TOBASCO SAUCE.  Take it along with you to every feed.  And slather it onto every dish you eat there.  It will enable you to swallow the stinkiest and runniest casserole there, and it is a natural germ killer so it is a great help in keeping you out of the ER with a savage case of food poisoning.  Also put it on the bologna sandwich...for the same reason.

POTATO  CHIPS AND FRITOS.  We lumped these two into one group because when your swiping them from the 7-11, you're usually moving so fast it is hard to distinguish between the two gaily colored packages.  Chips will hold you over until the next nasty bologna sandwich.  In fact, save some of them until you eat that next  nasty sandwich, and put them on top of the bologna and cheese and and tobasco. 

BEER.  Oh, come on now. Surely you have heard all of the rumors of people panhandling for beer.  They're true, and for good reason.  First, the beer takes the pressure of feeling lost and alone and hungry right away, and replaces those feelings with a warm buzz which spreads all through your body and makes you think you are king of the world, and what the hell about your phone being turned off, and losing your shoes last night, and having a a savage case of savage food poisoning,and all that, who cares...you have...BEER!

ASPIRIN.  You're gong to need it to take care of that headache you got from all that beer last night.

However, given your current diet, you will probably have developed an ulcer, and aspirin is a no no for an ulcer, so you're out of luck, unless you don't mind if your stomach is being eaten away.

On second thought, maybe that's a good idea.  No stomach.  No food groups required.  No problem.

Bon Appetit!

BLENDING IN

You wanted to stand out at your college graduation.  You wanted to be a visual marvel at your wedding.  Or mirage, whatever the case may be with your current marital situation after that marvelous appearance. 

And you needed to stand out when you were scurrying your way up the ladder of promotions at whatever job you got kicked out of before you landed here in Homeless Nation.

Two places you don't want to stand out in.  A police line-up and Homeless Nation.

 In a police line-up, you want to disappear, but  In Homeless Nation, you  not only do not want to stand out,  You want to blend in.

You'll blend well  enough in the Nation because while you are around a few hundred other people who are in the same neighborhood where it would be difficult to distinguish from sight, smell or feel one street puppy from the other. 

That is, unless, you have a street puppy who is actually lying down on the street, which is a common sight in many street puppy neighborhoods, commonly known as puppy hoods...or poopie hoods if there is a nearby bar or convenience which sells beers by the can.

Now, Street Puppy is going to help you to fix yourself up so that, in the event you want to venture out of the hood for a quick two-dollar cup of coffee, or a real hot dog, or an actual drink in a bar which serves booze by the glass, or just to see what it feels like to be out in the real world where people do not case every house they walk by to figure out if there is sleeping room in the back garden or under the porch.

First of all.  Lose the ski cap. 

It's a dead give-away especially if it is the middle of June and everybody around you is sweltering, and the minute a civilian sees a ski cap, they think...burglar, car-jacker, homeless creep who will pick my pocket.

Second.  Ditto the hoody.  Maybe we should have put that first because Street Puppy has actually seen grown women...and men...yelp and run the other way when they see anybody approaching them who is wearing a hoody. 

The bearer of the hoody could be two years old and in a stroller, or eighty and on a walker, doesn't matter, the public has been conditioned to equate a hoody with bad people, bad karma, bad mojo and usually a knock on the head to get your attention long enough to know the wearer of the hoody is serious about giving up that wallet of yours.

Third.  The back pack.  If you haven't learned by now that back packs scream for attention on the back of anybody other than a college student or an eagle scout, then you have no understanding at all of the wardrobe protocol as it relates to how much you can tote on your body without falling on your face.

And damm near every Street Puppy wears one of those things and they are usually dirty and stinky and falling apart.  Find a nice bush to stow it in and fill up your pockets with only the essentials for a few hours while you make your trek out of the Nation.

Make sure that you wear pants that actually fit, same with shoes, and even if you have to wash it in the sink at Walgreens make sure the shirt is clean.

Wash your hair and fingernails, and your face.  Vigorously.  A good scrub gives a rosy glow which will last long enough that people may think you have spent the afternoon sunning yourself at the top floor pool in your condo building.

Throw a sweater around a neck and let the arms dangle a bit, preferably a cashmere number from the heap at the church give away. 

That alone will give you enough of a preppy appearance, maybe even Euro-trash look so that you can safely meander around any neighborhood or even a mall where the price of a shirt in any store starts at 200 bucks.

The only accessory you should wear or carry is a belt.  Preferably to wear not to carry. 

What we are trying to say here is don't even think about toting a cane you use to help you along with that limp you developed after the third fall down running from the po po, or that fight at the feed.

Something about a cane makes people nervous, and maybe nervous enough for them to take a second look, just long enough to discern that you are indeed an interloper, and Gawd forbid...maybe one of those homeless freaks.

Last, but not least.  Trim the nose hairs.  People who live in homes have appliances to take care of those things.  You don't, and we don't want you to blow the whole picture here by continually reaching up your nostril to pick out one of those things.

These are simple things, but easy to do, and if you master the art of blending in well enough, who knows, one day you may even fool yourself so much into thinking that you are blending in to the real world that you will just walk right out and keep on going.

Leave the ski cap and the hoody behind.

ENTITLEMENTS R US

One thing good about being a Street Puppy is that, yes, at last, you are entitled.

And that means you are eligible to receive gifts, stipends, loans, free stuff, government money and all things which will come your way because you have no place to live, or shower, or watch TV.

In fact, you may say, from the time you hit the street with your backpack, "What's mine is mine,  and what's yours is mine."

Be careful about this gimme, buy me, take me stuff, you may end up, like so many Street Puppies do, getting so used to being on the receiving line of a lot of entitlements that you grow to be very comfortable with just sitting around and letting the world decide your fate for the price of a two-dollar used shirt, and some funky food and a whole lot of small bottles filled with shampoo or body lotion.

Or the pitiful sum that you would receive by selling your food stamps (which is actually a card) for half of the value in order to buy beer, potato chips, a pint of vodka, and/or one of those illegal substances from a Mr. Jit, which will keep you so stoned, that all you can do until you receive the next food stamp deposit is lurch from one free 'feed' to another, and visit all of those free giveaway clothing and hygiene items to replenish your own supply each time you fall asleep on a corner you are so polluted and somebody takes all of your 'stuff.'

It happens.  Frequently.

Then there's the big Kahuna of entitlement, the disability check.  The once a month bonus for whatever it is that ails you to the point that you cannot work.

Streetpuppy has seen many another Streetpuppy lie and con and cheat their way into subsidy heaven, and all for the huge profit of $700 or so bucks a month, give or take a quarter.

Now, that may seem like a lot of money, and to a frugal and fiscally conservative person it would be.  That amount, along with the food stamp money would be enough to enable you to live, if not comfortably, at least not hungry and/or cold and with proper protection against the outdoor weather even if you cannot afford a home.

Alas.  Many Streetpuppys who get that combo of disability check and food stamp money...and darn...don't you know it would all come on the same day in most cases, run off to the nearest motel for the instant gratification of spending one whole week in a crappy room crawling with bed bugs, and run the TV day and night, not hearing it all because they are so whacked out on the 18 packs of Nasty Ice beer and pints of vodka they drag into the room day after day from the convenience store next door which is the only store they can stagger to when the supply of booze runs out.

Usually a quantity of drugs is involved in this hiatus from the street, too so by the time a week has passed, you are not only exhausted from all that walking to the store for the 18 pack, you're still stoned and hung over. 

And broke.

So, it's back to the 'feeds.'  The free clothing giveaways.  The mooching cigarettes and quarters from everybody you know, and a whole lot of strangers who are so put off by your appearance ---you probably forgot to shave that whole week in the motel -- they only give you the quarter so you will take your smelly self away from them.

And back to, maybe stealing a few things along the way to keep that beer and vodka and cigarette and drug money rolling in until the next check and food stamps.

Things like other people's money and belongings.

One of the more frustrating things about Homeless Nation is the utter lack of respect many Streetpuppies show to their fellow puppies.

These particular Streetpuppies will smile into your face then rip off everything you have...usually when you are sleeping. 

Basically, they would give you the shirt off your own back.  And do, regularly.

You're not a mongrel.  You're a Streetpuppy.  Act like one. 

Take that next check and food stamp card and actually use it to buy decent clothing, save to rent a modest room somewhere, and buy something good to eat, like fresh fruit and vegetables.

Do this because you are not entitled to lie and cheat and steal in order to survive.

You are entitled to use the system in order to help you, not hold on to you forever.

Learn to be on the street, but not of the street.

NIGHT

You dread it.  You long for it. 

When it arrives, whether it falls softly, drifting along soon after the golden hour, or swiftly, wrapped in a sudden burst of wind and rain, you welcome it and give yourself up to it for the few short hours you can embrace the cover and the silence of the night.

With the night, comes sleep, however fitful.  And for any street puppy, the sleep is the healer, the balm, the respite from the day's cares and worries and wounds and aches both physical and psychic.

Now, the key word here is sleep.  And you need it.  You've been walking - sometimes running - about all the day, and you probably don't have enough nutrition to keep the nagging body working right, so sleep should fill that gap, that need to regenerate.

Where you are sleeping is not important, and if you're like most street puppies, your boudoir, or what passes for it will change regularly, if not frequently, as it should, especially if you are sleeping sans companion(s).

Keep your head about you, and remember to do that, change your sleeping spot regularly.  Vary your route  and travel hour to and fro, and do not tell anybody where you are located.  And that means even your best friend in Homeless Nation. 

Word gets around, and somebody out there -friend or foe - will get the idea in their head that night is the best time for them to replenish their own supplies, under cover of the darkness, and using the stealth they have acquired to take the  very shoes and socks from somebody's feet without making a sound, or even a motion. 

Shoes and socks and other things, including your life.

Which is why a street puppy's sleep is fitful.  You won't get a full night of it, unless you had too much tequila and pass out.  On the average, a street puppy's sleeping time comes in blocks of an hour or so of what can only be described as 'sleeping with one eye open.'  And both ears tuned to the slightest movement anywhere around you.

You will develop both of these  abilities quickly.  If you don't, you may just as well fall out under the brightest street light available and post a sign reading, "Hey!  I'm really stupid, take all of my stuff, then beat me up."

Take careful note of some things which will be a pain in the butt, and probably disrupt an entire night.

Sprinklers.  Ant hills.  Bull frogs that leap about on your face.  Ant hills.  Thorns embedded in otherwise benign looking bushes.  People who are way too friendly and would like to walk with you on your journey to the spot.

Pack a flashlight, preferably one of those nifty small thingys.  You'll need it to tell time, and to find that cigarette lighter you keep dropping onto the ground.

Don't advertise your presence.  No music, and don't even think about plugging earphones into your ears, you need to be able to hear anything -repeat that- anything that moves about around you.

Be respectful.  Wherever you are bedded is probably somebody's private property and if you're smart..and respectful, you will want to make it seem as though you weren't even there. Thus, no wrappers, napkins, pop top cans, or evidence of making potty.  Ahem.

And be an early riser.  The police usually drop by, if they're going to drop by just before dawn, because they want to catch you sleeping so that you can't say, "Officer, I'm just down here looking for my dad's wristwatch, he gave it to me just before he died."

Get used to rising before the sun, collecting your few belongings you have brought with you, which should be at the most, a very modest sleeping bag or a couple of light blankets, don't be a pit about it and making up a bed which would make Martha Stewart proud, you'll only be conspicuous and you won't be able to pick up and run real fast with all of that Martha stuff hanging around your ankles.

Eventually, you'll get the hang of it.  And soon you'll be able to survive with just a few hours of light snoozing and a few cat naps during the day. 

And don't mind the bull frogs, when they land on your face, they're just on their way to somewhere else.

Probably their own place to spend the night.