To his credit, it looks like he just may:
A better life is available to you.
If you want it, and will work for it,
you can have it.
I will recite that often on The William Tell Show. It’s the sort of thing one hears from Barack Obama.
Attn: White people
do not EVER —
question any thing a black man does.
I was abused at McDonald’s.
On the one hand, I’ve kept silent about this for four years, lest my coming forward constitute retaliation; I don’t believe in retaliation. On the other hand, with almost daily news reports about fast food workers abusing customers and the police being called, I would be remiss if I don’t share my story also.
I have screen shots of my diary from the days in question. I also have the original pertinent e-mails from McDonald’s.
Bottom line: Will you, or will you not, get on with life?
As long as you’re complaining
— about ANY THING —
you’re not doing what you can.
As remarked recently, I am almost never verbally insulted for being homeless.
The insults that do come are events at the clothes window, in the shower room at the shelter.
Jack is a short, skinny, old white man with short, wiry gray hair and a short, wiry gray beard. He uses a walker. He’s been with us about three weeks.
Every day, he gets more irritable, more combative and more obscene.
Q. What’s up with this?
A. It’s so nice here, he can’t stand it.
Related: Learning curve
Been there, done that. I had a temp assignment at yet another major, prestigious law firm. The atmosphere here was unlike that at any other law firm where I’d worked. No cursing. No stress. On this one lawyer’s birthday, his secretary baked him a big cake, that he shared with staff, including people he didn’t even know. Some unknown person paid my way to the offsite office Christmas party.
I didn’t know how to act. I began to act like it. They kept me on for six months, but I’m not welcome back.
Some months ago, riding a bus northbound on York Road, I gazed out the window wistfully as we passed Towson State University. That campus: the vast, manicured lawns; neatly trimmed shrubbery; stately buildings; utter tranquility. Young people of one background can be utterly happy there. Young people of a different background might can’t.
It’s a question of how much malice pervades the world in which one grew up.
The reality is that some grow up in a world where one must be eternally vigilant for one’s own personal safety. Where walking down the street, one may meet intense hostility at any time, and must be ready to answer that with hostility of one’s own in order to survive. Where “watch your back” isn’t a metaphor: one turns one’s head slightly with every step, right and left, so that with every step one’s peripheral vision takes in 360° — lest some predator be stalking who means you bodily harm.
For such a person to be thrust into a world where none of that is necessary, can be unsettling.
Perhaps the pent-up hostility, previously essential to survive, may begin to come out. Certainly the former real threats and danger can be succeeded by new, imagined ones. One persists in feeling that the whole environment is hostile.
And one may want to respond in kind.
I have no solutions. It may only help, to understand where some of these folk come from.
Where does it hurt?
That may not be where the problem is.
Henry Vincent was a burglar. An elderly man whose house he broke into, killed him. The funeral is somehow estimated to have cost £100,000.
The funeral procession became an “uprising.” The police were ready. They had had intelligence about it. This was planned.
Vincent was a Traveler. More about them shortly. If you Google “Henry Vincent traveler,” you’ll come up with a lot about him. He and accomplices were predatory.
I suspect the film At Close Range deals with Travelers. It proves to be a true story, and very sad and grim. Continue reading The Travelers
Three clips from the WBFF Fox 45 newscast of 5:00 p.m. Tuesday, May 1:
I may no longer believe a word they say, but I can take great comfort in the hymns I learned in childhood.
My hope is built on nothing less
than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.
No merit of my own I claim,
but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.
On what is my hope built?