Supporting in the Club [2012 original with AI background]
My alarm is wonky. Jack Jack decided not to wait until 7:00 to wake me this morning. No, he woke me at 6:30 with a series of serious headbutts to let me know that he and his compatriots needed to be fed now. I complied, of course, but then went right back to bed and back to sleep. I’m not sure the dogs so much as moved. I didn’t sleep all that well last night anyway, so getting up earlier than necessary this morning wasn’t going to happen.
Kat wanted to stop by and see our friend Jenni at Fat Cat last night, so I walked down there to meet her. Jenni asked if I’d done anything productive. My answer was no, which will be my answer from here on out even if I manage to stay busy. Sure, Tipper and I walked to the Speedway to get milk and I did re-process a number of pictures, but were either of those actions productive? Not in the sense of doing anything that matters to society. Chemo has made me largely useless from a social perspective. I can sit here and type and complain and do things with pictures, but at the end of the day, none of it matters.
I responded to a request from my endocrinologist asking how my glucose levels were doing. I didn’t hear anything back. I sent a message to my patient advocate about my insurance and didn’t get as much as an acknowledgment from them. So, I’m still waiting.
There was a situation at the Speedway that bothered Tipper a bit. As we were checking out, the store manager saw a man rummaging through the trash outside. She and the one male employee quickly went outside to run him off. He objected, loudly, and raised a bit of a fuss. As Tipper and I left, we stayed off to the side so as to not attract any unwanted attention. Tipper was concerned and we walked quickly to the corner and across the street. The traffic light worked in our favor and we were across Lafayette before the man could catch up. For much of the rest of the way home, she kept looking back over her shoulder to make sure we weren’t being followed.
Tipper explained that men like that are the reason she won’t go anywhere by herself. In this city or any other for that matter, that’s a wise move. We’ve created an environment where women of any age cannot safely travel alone without significant experience in hand-to-hand combat, and even then, they face substantial risks. But can she realistically expect there to always be someone to accompany her?
Take, for example, going to school this fall. She can catch the same bus as her brother going to the transit center, and then her boyfriend, Gio, will meet up with her there for the rest of the trip to school (Tipper’s going to the main campus while G is off campus at the micro-school). What happens, though, if either her brother or Gio isn’t going to school one day? One could be ill, away on a field trip, or have an e-learning day for some reason. What does she do then? Is she safe going to school by herself?
Yeah, I’m gonna worry. I’m not sure what reasonable precautions we can take.
It was more than eight hours later when I walked back down to the bar to meet Kat. The same guy was still there at the intersection. He had his shirt off now, a half-empty bottle in his back pocket, and was inebriated enough that he couldn’t manage to cross the street. He tried to tell me how he, his dad, and his brother, used to live “right here” in the neighborhood, long ago, when the bar was under a different name. He’s a regular outside all the businesses in the area. Kat has witnessed him being thrown out of other convenience stores as well. His life seems to be a series of poor choices, choices which the bottle would indicate that he’s continuing to make.
I’d like to think that maybe someone tried to help him once before, help him get treatment for his alcoholism and whatever else plagues him. There are any number of reasons why he’s on the street. Maybe he’s the person who lives in the tent under the nearby bridge, by the creek. G’s been by there often on his way home, and is sure someone is living there, but has never seen the occupant. Everyone dodges him, and everyone judges him. Yet, he’s still human. He deserves some compassion, doesn’t he?
This is the world we’ve created, one where people on the fringes of society, for whatever reason, are cast aside. We assume they put themselves where they are with a series of bad choices, and for some, that’s likely true, but we know there are plenty of exceptions as well and we won’t know who the exceptions are unless we interact with them. We have to take some risks.
As I’m sitting here typing, I’m thinking of Bill Levin and the First Church of Cannabis. Bill has a lot of detractors, especially within the city government, but he and his church members are doing something no one else is: having a positive impact on homelessness in the city. More than anyone else, they’re out there partnering with Hearts In Hands Homeless Outreach providing food (which drives city officials nuts), blankets, and basic life necessities, including food and medical care for homeless pets. If they meet someone that they can realistically help get off the street, they do so. The City of Indianapolis makes that task as difficult as possible, but Bill has been determined to make a difference.
We need more people like Bill who are willing to take that chance. Maybe I need to be one of those people. I’m not planning on doing any walking today or tomorrow, but the next time I’m out, I’ll be looking. If nothing else, maybe I’ll ask Bill for help. Maybe you could, too.
Okay, time for me to get on with my unproductive day. I’m feeling some pressure in my chest, some fogginess in my head, some pain in my arms. I’m not sure how much of the day I’ll be able to remain upright. I’ll do what we can, though.
My alarm is wonky. Jack Jack decided not to wait until 7:00 to wake me this morning. No, he woke me at 6:30 with a series of serious headbutts to let me know that he and his compatriots needed to be fed now. I complied, of course, but then went right back to bed and back to sleep. I’m not sure the dogs so much as moved. I didn’t sleep all that well last night anyway, so getting up earlier than necessary this morning wasn’t going to happen.
Kat wanted to stop by and see our friend Jenni at Fat Cat last night, so I walked down there to meet her. Jenni asked if I’d done anything productive. My answer was no, which will be my answer from here on out even if I manage to stay busy. Sure, Tipper and I walked to the Speedway to get milk and I did re-process a number of pictures, but were either of those actions productive? Not in the sense of doing anything that matters to society. Chemo has made me largely useless from a social perspective. I can sit here and type and complain and do things with pictures, but at the end of the day, none of it matters.
I responded to a request from my endocrinologist asking how my glucose levels were doing. I didn’t hear anything back. I sent a message to my patient advocate about my insurance and didn’t get as much as an acknowledgment from them. So, I’m still waiting.
There was a situation at the Speedway that bothered Tipper a bit. As we were checking out, the store manager saw a man rummaging through the trash outside. She and the one male employee quickly went outside to run him off. He objected, loudly, and raised a bit of a fuss. As Tipper and I left, we stayed off to the side so as to not attract any unwanted attention. Tipper was concerned and we walked quickly to the corner and across the street. The traffic light worked in our favor and we were across Lafayette before the man could catch up. For much of the rest of the way home, she kept looking back over her shoulder to make sure we weren’t being followed.
Tipper explained that men like that are the reason she won’t go anywhere by herself. In this city or any other for that matter, that’s a wise move. We’ve created an environment where women of any age cannot safely travel alone without significant experience in hand-to-hand combat, and even then, they face substantial risks. But can she realistically expect there to always be someone to accompany her?
Take, for example, going to school this fall. She can catch the same bus as her brother going to the transit center, and then her boyfriend, Gio, will meet up with her there for the rest of the trip to school (Tipper’s going to the main campus while G is off campus at the micro-school). What happens, though, if either her brother or Gio isn’t going to school one day? One could be ill, away on a field trip, or have an e-learning day for some reason. What does she do then? Is she safe going to school by herself?
Yeah, I’m gonna worry. I’m not sure what reasonable precautions we can take.
It was more than eight hours later when I walked back down to the bar to meet Kat. The same guy was still there at the intersection. He had his shirt off now, a half-empty bottle in his back pocket, and was inebriated enough that he couldn’t manage to cross the street. He tried to tell me how he, his dad, and his brother, used to live “right here” in the neighborhood, long ago, when the bar was under a different name. He’s a regular outside all the businesses in the area. Kat has witnessed him being thrown out of other convenience stores as well. His life seems to be a series of poor choices, choices which the bottle would indicate that he’s continuing to make.
I’d like to think that maybe someone tried to help him once before, help him get treatment for his alcoholism and whatever else plagues him. There are any number of reasons why he’s on the street. Maybe he’s the person who lives in the tent under the nearby bridge, by the creek. G’s been by there often on his way home, and is sure someone is living there, but has never seen the occupant. Everyone dodges him, and everyone judges him. Yet, he’s still human. He deserves some compassion, doesn’t he?
This is the world we’ve created, one where people on the fringes of society, for whatever reason, are cast aside. We assume they put themselves where they are with a series of bad choices, and for some, that’s likely true, but we know there are plenty of exceptions as well and we won’t know who the exceptions are unless we interact with them. We have to take some risks.
As I’m sitting here typing, I’m thinking of Bill Levin and the First Church of Cannabis. Bill has a lot of detractors, especially within the city government, but he and his church members are doing something no one else is: having a positive impact on homelessness in the city. More than anyone else, they’re out there partnering with Hearts In Hands Homeless Outreach providing food (which drives city officials nuts), blankets, and basic life necessities, including food and medical care for homeless pets. If they meet someone that they can realistically help get off the street, they do so. The City of Indianapolis makes that task as difficult as possible, but Bill has been determined to make a difference.
We need more people like Bill who are willing to take that chance. Maybe I need to be one of those people. I’m not planning on doing any walking today or tomorrow, but the next time I’m out, I’ll be looking. If nothing else, maybe I’ll ask Bill for help. Maybe you could, too.
Okay, time for me to get on with my unproductive day. I’m feeling some pressure in my chest, some fogginess in my head, some pain in my arms. I’m not sure how much of the day I’ll be able to remain upright. I’ll do what we can, though.
Maybe the dogs will find me entertaining.
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