Feb 21 2007

Fat Tuesday

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Fat Tuesday was pretty slim. I didn’t have enough for coffee this morning. Or cigarettes. I sat on a bench and bummed cigarettes until the library opened. I sat there all day going through the news articles, updating my forum till the 15th. Still another 3,000 or so articles to go through to get it current.

I didn’t bother to go to the church for lunch. It isn’t worth the trouble, I’d as soon go hungry.

I managed to send off an email to Tony Madrigal, and forwarded it to the other supervisors. And AAMC’s & ASA’s lists.

I didn’t get anything done about my credit card, couldn’t bring myself to call them and still don’t know why it’s overdrawn. I have until the 15th to pay my webhosting, and should take care of that first.

Neither have I done anything about the camping tickets.

Valerie had macaroni & cheese, peanut butter sandwiches and hot cocoa tonight so I did get something to eat.

And a lady at the library gave me $5 when I asked her for a cigarette, so I won’t have to sit for 3/4 hours tomorrow with nothing to do while waiting for the library to open. I can get coffee if I want.

Robert is in a marathon somewhere so I can’t count on any help from him with regard to the tickets, and I guess that means there won’t be a HUFF meating tomorrow.

Rain is forcast beginning tommorrow, with thunderstorms Thursday. I have a feeling my laptop won’t make it through this storm.

The local paper announced a bum hunt last week, Tuesday I guess. I was so angry I went by the supervisors and told them what I thought. I think I spoke well. There was me, Robert, Becky, Bernhard, Bear, and several other homeless people. And a lot of anger was vented.

I got a camping ticket that night, shortly after 11 pm. A girl sitting near me was arrested, and so was a man. I called Robert and kept him on speaker phone until I got away from the police. Then about 4 am I was rousted again by 1st Alarm. I ended up sitting on Pacific Avenue, on a bench, until 8 or so. I was freezing cold.

It turns out, about the time I was speaking, a black man whacked a policeman while he was citing someone else.

The tension was palpable on the streets the past couple of days, and reminded me of the South in 1969. Just know, when I was standing outside, a policemand was being heckled walking his beat by a man screaming “I can’t even have a smoke a the duck pond.”

Indeed, violence begets violence.


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