(1) Coffee tastes great this morning. Once again, it’s nice to be able to get a cup of coffee in my own apartment, having used my very own coffee maker.
There was a time not too long ago when, if I wanted a morning cup of coffee, I had to wait at the bottom of a church stairway with about forty other people, enduring orders being barked at me by a security guard, being made to feel as though I were a criminal, even though I was a free man with no criminal record.
(2) Somebody left a great Black & Decker coffee maker out by the bin, and my lady friend prepares nice Seattle’s Best coffee every night.
All I have to do these days if I want a cup of coffee is flip a switch when I get up. I am truly living the dream.
(3) I think I’ll have my second cup right now.
There was a time when they denied me a cup of coffee because I didn’t have forty cents, even though I had just played piano in the same building to a group of applauding fans.
(4) I slept in a nice warm bed last night, with the mother of my daughter and the love of my life.
There was a time when I slept in a tent made of cardboard, worried that the approaching thief would find me, recognize me, and steal everything that I had – with violence.
(5) It’s been almost two years now since Somebody Up There snatched me off of an all-night bus on the S.F.Bay Area Peninsula and set me down in a studio apartment in another State, in a warm-hearted, Art-positive community where people took me seriously from the start.
(6) It used to be that I was widely disrespected, and literally mocked whenever I spoke of my work, or of Music, or of Art, or even of God. I was thought to be either impudently arrogant or incorrigibly insane if I spoke of anything higher than the widespread assumption that I was nothing more than a worthless piece of homeless scum. People these days may think I’m an oddball, but it sure is a relief they don’t think that I’m “scum.”
(7) I must never forget that a single 48-hour bus ride and a $200 loan landed me in a community where I was instantly accepted, and nobody doubted my words of truth, nor judged me as a pariah, nor cast me out as a leper.
There was a time when, for the life of me, I could not find anyone who would accept me as I am.
(8) I have since then wanted to shout to the world that my personality did not change on a single 48-hour bus trip. And in so many words, I am doing so. Homelessness is not the problem. It is the result of the problem. When the world sees that, it will be a Great Day Indeed.
(9) That man who has not changed still comes across as a ding bat to many, all over the map, hard to follow, maybe even hard to work with, with impulse control issues, and dyslexia, and all kinds of other strange mental processes working against his ability to survive. But my once and future wife came back to me when she saw this on the Internet, and saw therein the man whom she loved. The words of the Preacher have never rung more true:
Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their labor:
If either of them falls down,
one can help the other up.
But pity anyone who falls
and has no one to help them up.
Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
(10) After twelve years of struggling to survive on the San Francisco Bay Area streets, I’ve been able to write a full length musical about Homelessness in America, all because I was finally able to get inside. Yesterday I received the mix of the first song in my demo for that musical, the demo that it took me months to save up $950 to record. I worry that my bumbling personality might be a pain in the ass in the eyes of the very orderly engineer who helped me to produce that song. But that worry is nothing compared to what I and countless other homeless people had to worry about on the streets, in a hole so deep you’d have to live it to know how hard it was to climb out of it.
We were assumed to be criminals. We were assumed to be, as the singer states, “litter, scum and slime.” Please help me to get the truth about Homelessness to the People of America. Please support me in getting this message across, in the manner I know best — before it is too late.
Please donate to Eden in Babylon.
Anything Helps – God Bless!