absolute homeless

middle-age American living in New Jersey near the Lincoln Tunnel «« Homeless is not an absolute distinction. It’s several hours before dawn, and the only rest I’ve had is here in the Amtrak waiting area, which I’m entitled to, because I bought a ticket, but I’m not traveling on Amtrak, so my status is a little twisted. It’s early enough, so the stable people who rested most of the night in private space with time and supplies for personal hygiene and clean clothes arrived. They’re distinguished from homeless in every way from their outward appearance including the way they’re turning their heads, and checking the schedule and a time piece. They’re going someplace. Two people at the opposite end of the spectrum: ONE: the crazy man walking and talking to himself. He’s wearing a blanket from waist down leaving a big slit, so I can see his cargo shorts. The common practice of talking on the phone with no overt sign of a phone has blurred the lines between crazy people and not crazy people, but this man is distinguished. He’s talking; nobody’s listening. The crazy man toured for hours before I rested, and during my midnight break from rest while I stood drinking a Coors his tour continued. I should only need one person to mark the far side of the homeless spectrum, but I can’t omit a man with special skill. This resourceful man has developed a way to sleep standing leaning on a trash can. The proper height is required, so a man with my height even with training could not become skilled at trash-can sleeping. This man was distinguished with very bad posture allowing him to rest his elbows on the rim with his head hung as if he were looking in the trash. Even that man got disturbed with a remarkably gentle series of hits on the rim from the Station Police. In between the every-night-on-the-street people and the stable AM travelers includes me and a range of stories defining everything in between. I’m not making light of my trouble with Hana, because it might be a series of bad events ending in . . . . the end of us, but it’s probably less. So much less that it leaves me, “homeless”, which I could technically claim, but it would be bull shit. Street sleepers would denounce me. Also in between are described in two stories feature by me in my voice on my youtube channel. ONE is the ultra-wealthy-divorcing couple who became the subject of a very long NYTimes report. They were homeless, because having no home was favorable for tax dodging, but living on a luxury yacht with tutors for their kids would also deny them homeless status. Colonel Abrams was homeless before he died, but my vid attracted a comment from a man who knew Colonel as, “staying with people he knew”. Colonel’s dark end following a noteworthy rise to fame and fortune is very dark, and, “staying with” does not revoke is homeless status. Homeless is not an absolute distinction. »» about me 302-990-2346 nearlincoln@hotmail.com contact us

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About Tom Doody

middle-age American living in New Jersey near the Lincoln Tunnel
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