Most of the time I forget that I'm an outcast. Every now and then people remind me that I don't belong. It's always people, only people. For example, weather is neutral. Weather doesn't care where or how I live or die. Whether skies are sunny or gray, no judgment. Trees, grass, flowers, all that spring greenery that makes me sneeze, that stuff doesn't care if I dump my pee jar where dogs pee. Trash cans are neutral, too. They receive my neatly bagged trash no matter what I throw away, be it poop or my ziplock bag of clip-on sunglasses or a hand towel I really liked or a rain jacket that no longer repels rain. I really like trash cans for their stoic receptiveness. I think I'd be a lot happier if I were more like a stoic trash can.
I've more or less assimilated the trauma of waking up to thieves trying to steal my gas. It was a week ago. The upside of getting old is that traumas fade. However, today I was reminded again that I don't belong, even in my old neighborhood, even parked on a public street maintained by my tax dollars. An irate homeowner came out to see what I was up to. I was writing, just doing my thing, but from her point of view, I could have been shooting heroin and watching porn on YouTube. I mean, who could blame her for being wary of a strange car outside her house.
I got out of my car and asked her if I was making her uncomfortable by parking next to her house. She asked me why I didn't go to a shelter. I wondered if she had ever been to a shelter. I haven't either but I imagine we've both seen similar images of shelters on the news: rows of cots in a big cold room, no place to store your belongings, constantly having to worry about being assaulted by weirdos and druggies. Why on earth would I do that, given I have my house with me. Her house happens to be stick built on a nice corner. My house just happens to be small and have four wheels. So what?
I told her I used to live in this neighborhood, just around the corner. I could tell she didn't believe me. Why should she? We probably don't watch the same news shows. To her, every homeless person is a lying drug addict. To me, every homeowner has a stick up their ass.
I don't really believe that. I understand why homeowners don't want low-income riffraff pulling down their property values, even if the riffraff happens to be seniors scraping by on social security while they wait for their name to come up on a subsidized housing unit before they die. If I had property, I'd probably feel the same way. Circle the wagons, don't let in the other, because if you do, they will destroy you, your family, and your way of life.
A life lived in fear is a life half lived. Said the person who has nothing left to lose.
