Right and Left (On Mt. View)

JAN 10 2009
Tomorrow I leave for Flagstaff again. It's time I reflect on what this month had to offer. What I did.
No, scratch that.
I mean, I had a few major goals and I only scrambled to accomplish a couple in the last week. They don't even seem to matter now.
I don't really remember what happened anyway since I stopped keeping a personal journal. It's a hard habit to keep and I don't really spend any time alone anymore, just pondering. I wish I could, I miss it, but I don't have the time.
No, scratch that.
That should have been my new year's resolution. To make time for myself.
Ok, scratch that, let's start over.

This is a specific story.
At the beginning of this adventure, I badly wanted a picture of a decaying billboard four miles from my house, turn Right on Mountain View Rd.
I waited until the day before I left when I drove down there with Dave. He went a little past it and we discovered some stencils on a dumpster outside a tattoo parlor. I got out and took a few pictures. Many of the stencils were old and amazing, such as one of a distorted baby face. And then the manager came out and asked what I was doing.
"Taking pictures."
"Of what?" He was tattooed from head to toe with piercings to match. His hair, unkempt, beatnik style, someone way into a decade 60 years ago.
"Stencils." I said. "I like stencils."
"I thought it was a little strange that someone was taking pictures of my garbage, so I came out here."
"Hope you don't mind."
"Nah, it's cool, just ask permission next time, so I know what's up."
Yeah. Like I'm going to ask if I can take pictures of your dumpster.
I got my shots, including the one of the billboard that I loved. It was beautiful.

Later, Dave generously drove my sister's boyfriend, Daniel, home and I went with them so I could lend Dave gas money. We stopped at QT, just as a cop pulled someone over. The gas station was packed and busy, even at midnight.
While waiting, I met an old man.
He was a babbler, talk talk talk, but worse than that, he was an incoherent babbler.
Couldn't understand a damn word he said.
He was dressed well enough that I didn't think he was homeless, even when he told me a sob story about how he was locked out of his car and needed to get to Glendale.
"I feel like a horses' posterior. Could you lend me enough money to get some gas?"
I didn't question the inherent contradiction. I just gave. He needed gas to get into a locked car? And he's gonna borrow the money, like he's ever gonna pay me back? Sure.
The old guy told me his name, but I couldn't hear it. He told me how he is a professor at Luke Airforce Base. He asked me if I was going to get my masters. Told me to retake the SAT. A lot of random shit.
Suddenly, I noticed the gas station was completely empty. Footsteps echoed. A kind of peace filled me.
Then the old guy asked for money again. This time, he needed it to buy a snack inside the QT to raise his bloodsugar, since he has diabetes. I told him, I gave him everything. But he was being nice about it.
"I'll even open my wallet for you to prove it."
"No, no." He said. "Your heart is bigger than your head."
I'm not sure if that was an insult or not, but it felt wrong. I felt stingy. I truly didn't want to give him anything.
"Um, I have this quarter I found. . ."
Suddenly, Dave appeared, and the guy started his sob story all over again. Dave, poor Dave, gave him enough to buy some coffee, even when I know he has less than 47 cents in his checking account.
Then this guy asked me if I could give him a ride. Just to 17th Ave, down Mountain View, not even out of our way.
"Dave's the driver," I said.
Dave shrugged. "Ok."
We waited for the old guy to buy his coffee and filled up. The old guy took his time, told me, "I never do anything fast." Laughed.
He said a funny thing, that he may not be around next Christmas. "I'm 63 and I don't want to be pessimistic. . ."
Somehow, that made it so that the money didn't matter anymore.

"Don't ask me how I know, I just know." He said. "But you're a night person."
"Yeah."
"You know how I could tell?"
"It's night?"
Old Guy was being incoherent again, but I could make out clips and phrases.
"I don't want to be such a presumptuous bastard, but I'll just say this quick, but the Man upstairs is your ticket." He thrusted upward with his index finger.
"You a Christian? You don't have to be, but it helps."
"Yeah, I am."
He started mumbling something Hebrew and then translating it into English. It may have been a blessing, but I couldn't follow him. Then:
"I know this is gonna sound harsh, but I used to be a football coach and you don't get someone to be all they can be by patting them on the back." He said. "You get them to be all they can be by kicking them in the ass."
Dave laughed. "OK. . ."
"So, get off your ass!"
I looked him straight in the eyes.
"God gave you some special gifts. You have no idea. You have gifts in areas that you have never dreamed of. Don't ask me how I know, I just know. Of all the times you've failed, I've failed ten times more. And any success you've had, I've had. So get off your ass. Use them gifts."
I smiled. I've been feeling shitty about my life accomplishments lately and that's what I needed to hear.
We drove the guy to his place, Left on Mountain View and he said, "I don't mean to be such a presumptuous bastard, but could I ask for one more favor?" He begged us to take him to a church near a hospital. Or maybe it was a hospital near a church. He was so hard to understand.
Old Guy asked us to drop him off at his apartment complex and then come pick him up in 40 minutes. I don't know why, but Dave agreed.
But as soon as we pulled into the parking lot, three people surrounded the van and started looking inside at us. Looking for drugs. The one woman looked like a meth addict and they didn't get what was going on.
The situation totally upset Dave and he drove off.
"The whole situation threw me off." He said. "And then I just abandoned the situation."
"The old man inspired me," I said.
"He said some interesting things."
". . . That's about it."
"I realized that he said exactly what he needed to say to keep me interested long enough to give him a dollar and a car ride. And I realized he was just using me. I didn't feel comfortable in the situation and I knew he was using me so I went back on my word."
"Oh well," I said. "He'll live. Let's hope."
"Yeah," Dave said. "And if he doesn't, then it's not my fault, because he's a grown man and it's his responsibility to take care of himself."

FEB 11 2009
I got my pictures, I'm not sure anything said matters, but I got my pictures.