Author: Dick

My weekend was once again spent at McFaddin Beach on the uppermost Texas Gulf Coast. If you have to be homeless, there are many worse places you could find yourself. Only a few people populated the vast strip for the four or five miles of the beach past Sea Rim State Park. Thus, it was mostly quiet and the weather was very pleasant (although a bit windy.)

A secluded strech of beach such as McFaddin belongs to the people, so I would suppose that just for the weekend there I really did have a home.

I talked with an interesting German couple there on Sunday. They were walking the beach with their gigantic Newfoundland dog with the magnificently inapt name of “Weenie.” The huge canine ran up and licked my hand just as if I had been and old friend or new cat burglar. Uh oh. Andy Rooney moment. Did you ever wonder why there are cat burglars but no dog burglars? Sorry. I didn’t sleep too well last night and am a bit drowsy. So, I leave you be for a wonderful remainder of the day. Sleep tight and don’t let the cat burglars bite.

Gee Dubya does his Bill Clinton imitation by appearing before a group of African-Americans.

Allow me to escape the current misery in my life on the streets. What better way to forget about your personal problems than think about those of our country or world at large.

Our president, Mr. Gee Dubya, has said that all the talk concerning his hell-bent desire to attack Iran is just “noise.

So perhaps Compound Shrub Dubya isn’t doing all the talking about turning Iran into a pile of dust. But his surrogates are. It seems like each time you hear a Dubya Tru Bee Lever talking, the conversation gets around to those bad, bad Iranians. So they are supplying implements of destruction which may harm our troops? That’s not good, certainly. But it isn’t like the U.S. has never supplied weapons and other lethal hardware to warring countries. Sometimes that includes selling weapons to nations which eventually fight our own allies. Remember the Argentine cruiser the General Belgrano that a UK submarine sank during the Falklands War? Guess that ship’s name before it entered the service of the Argentine Navy? Give up? It was the U.S.S. Phoenix. U.S.S. meaning “United States Ship.”

This is not to say we should encourage Iran to supply products to kill our troops. These weapons should be stopped from entering Iraq. But let’s not use the weapons business as an excuse to declare war on Iran. That excuse would be just as flimsy as saying the U.S. invaded Iraq because Saddam Hussein had a s**t pile of weapons of mass destruction. And we surely wouldn’t unleash our military might on such lightweight excuses, would we?

Your kindness continues to roll in like a mighty tidal wave of love in my dark hours of homelessness.

The latest kind person is Bill Marbach of The Gourmet Kitchen based in Boca Raton, Fla., who has offered me a Thermos product of my choice to link to www.thermosonline.com. Here you are Bill, I’ve already sent you my preference for a product.

This is the type of compassion and display of love offerings via the “Internets” of which I hoped was out there. Among the items still needed to help me survive these cold, mean streets are 1)money 2)a job 3)more money 4) more jobs 5)an aged single-malt Scotch 6)Salma Hayek. Hey, a person can dream can’t they?

Great tidings of joy there brothers and sisters,
EFD

Ah, top o’ the morning to you — whatever that means. I’ve always wondered what it meant when someone says “top of the morning” to another. Is that like NOT wishing the BOTTOM of the morning to someone. And by bottom, do THEY refer to the bottom in a derogatory sense such as a horse’s bottom or backside? Or is a reference just to the time of day? Is it merely that someone is wishing the topside of the day to you? I want to know. Inquiring mimes want to know.

The top of my morning was interrupted by some jerk*** blowing his horn and driving his red pickup with a camper up close in positions meant to intimidate me inside my truck in which I was soundly sleeping. Shortly after the jerk*** left, two police officers in two separate cars came to knock on my window. I told them my dilemma, they were nice and went about their way to the top of their mornings.

Later I went to the breakfast for the homeless at St. Mark’s Episcopal. It was really tremendous though a bit eclectic: red beans and rice, cereal, banana, banana pudding, OJ (not Simpson), coffee and the nice people served the meals to you. These are some really great folks. I guess they make up for all the jerk***s out there.

I have to run. Hopefully, my truck will soon be up and running again and I can at least sleep somewhere differently. Until sometime …

I am in the Beaumont Public Library, so I must make this short. I am not doing so well. I have been living out of my pickup but it has been broken down going on a week. I guess one would have to call this situation I am in “homelessness.” If walks like a wino and it talks like a wino … ‘scuse me while I interject a little levity here because I am in desperate need of a heaping, helping of laughter. But I also need money. Yes dear friends, I need money to get me out of this dark pit and into something slightly brighter. I don’t need a mansion. I just need my truck to run. And this Thermos.

“Huh? I am not a bum. I’m a jerk. I once had wealth, power, and the love of a beautiful woman. Now I only have two things: my friends and… uh… my thermos. Huh? My story? Okay. It was never easy for me. I was born a poor black child. I remember the days, sittin’ on the porch with my family, singin’ and dancin’ down in Mississippi.”

Okay, enough with the Navin R. Johnsonisms. The donation button to the right? Yes, it works by sending money via PayPal, if you make it so.

Many thanks,
The Proprietor