Why I don't give money to beggars

       I know you've seen them.

      It's usually a man. He's disheveled, looks like he's gone a couple days without a bath. he usually has a cigarette.

      His clothing has seen better days. He usually has a hat and a cigarette. There's usually a backpack stashed close behind him. He has the body language and the facial expression of a sad, beaten man.
       Unless it's raining or snowing hard, he's on a busy street corner controlled by a traffic light and plenty of traffic. He positions himself so he can make eye contact with the driver of a car.  He's seldom overtly or verbally aggressive, but he forces a pedestrian to walk around him.  He's got a sign. The sign usually says this:

The sign is ALWAYS on a sheet of cardboard. It's usually misspelled. It usually says the above: anything helps and God bless.

    He's a 'panhandler'. A bum. A beggar.  


He is not always a 'he'.Sometimes it is a woman. They all share the same things, though:
a woebegone look and a sad story. 
Sometimes they have a dog..or worse, a kid with them (although, in my area, it is illegal to have a kid or a dog alongside when you are begging). This is to encourage sympathy (for the kid's sake) or a desire to meet the dog, especially if it's a puppy.

   In so many cases, these people are not homeless. They might not have a job, but there is always a place in the larger cities where they can find a bed, a hot shower, a meal. They're called 'homeless shelters'. Many beggars don't want to use them, though, as the shelters (especially the religious ones, i.e. Salvation Army) expect things of them: keep your drugs, your alcohol, your smokes OUT. No dogs, no sexual activity, and you have to earn the stay, meaning: do SOMETHING: pick up trash, look for work, etc. 

   I know some of these folks really are homeless. You can't help but see them, sleeping on park benches. You see them in the public library, looking at porn on the computers. 
Some of them are, if not aggressive, verbally confrontational, in a way to make you feel guilty. "Can't spare a buck?" 

   In my town, there is an unofficial gathering place for these people next to a public well. The water is pure and clean, and best of all, free. You cannot get a jug of water filled, though, without a group of the beggars all congregating around you as you fill your water jugs.  It's not so much that they want to fill their little plastic bottle with water. No, it's intimidation. It's saying to you, I am here, you have money, I want some. 
 They place themselves, legs outstretched to take up as much sidewalk as they can in front of restaurants and places of business so that you are forced to walk past them on your way into the establishment. They make comments, sotto voce, but loud enough to hear, a comment made to make you feel guilty that you are about to partake of a meal while they, a fellow human, are OBVIOUSLY hungry, cold and homeless.

  But are they?

  They depend on several things. They depend on you to feel sympathy for the plight. They look homeless. They have the expression of a beaten dog. And they know you are purposefully avoiding eye contact. Hence, they expect you to not be able to recognize them from one day to the next. But we do. We remember.

    She was holding a sign: "Homeless, two hungry children. Anything helps."
  No, I didn't give her any money. She looked too well fed to actually be hungry. Several  months later, I saw her on the same corner, with the same worded sign: "Homeless, two children. ONE ON THE WAY. Anything helps."
    Holy christ. You'd think if you have no job, no home, and are hungry, you don't MAKE ANOTHER KID. If she were homeless, she had no business having unprotected sex. No, perhaps she can't afford birth control (although Planned Parenthood would have provided it for her for free). But the answer isn't getting pregnant. It's finding a safe place for the kids and then getting some means of taking care of them.

  Or:

   He's on the corner with a beat up cardboard sign and a ballcap saying "US Navy" His sign says he's a disabled combat veteran. Homeless, hungry, anything helps god bless. He chain smokes with a shaking hand.

    One of my friends works for the VA. He's a former Marine (although, once a Marine, always a Marine.) Disabled after three combat tours in Viet Nam, a pant leg covers his prosthetic leg, and only one eye is real.  He makes a habit of seeking out panhandling veterans needing help. He can get them into programs to get them medical care, job counseling, even into a shelter. But he, like me and most other veterans, possesses a sixth sense to know when someone is truly a veteran..or just posing as one. 
He approached the the so called US Navy veteran. 

    Without identifying himself as working for the VA, he asked the beggar what did he do in the Navy? Was he on a ship? How did he get hurt? I thought the VA helped veterans? What kind of job is he looking for ? 
The beggar kept evading his questions, mumbling or making non-committal answers. Finally he looked my insistent friend in the eye and said, "Look, asshole, this is just my gig. Fuck off."



Or:  

   Not far from my home on the outskirts of town, I see a beggar with the sign and a handsome dog. It's the dog that catches my eye, a handsome, brown Australian Shepherd with a wiggle butt substituting for his lack of a happy tail. I'm an animal person. I see them before I see the owner. But I drive on. I've got things to do.

  Half an hour later, I'm downtown. I'm waiting for a light to change.  I see a large white passenger van stop at the cross street in front of a beggar. The side door opens, the beggar gets aboard....and the beggar with the Australian shepherd dog gets off.  It's shift change!!

Or:   

    He's standing on a busy, business district corner controlled by traffic lights. He's walking back and forth, carrying on a conversation with himself, but directed at the cars waiting for the light to change in front of him. His sign is double sided. On one side, it's "Hungry. Homeless. Anything helps." He looks hard at the occupants in the car in front of them and makes a loud comment. They ignore him. The light changes. He flips the sign. It says, "Fuck you very much."

Or: 

    I was with a far quicker witted person than I. There's two beggars...the man, not much older than my admittedly older car, with his very pregnant girlfriend who is holding the sign.  As we passed, he said, "We've got a baby coming." My friend snapped, "You should have thought of that BEFORE you knocked her up."
 

Or:

   My friend was out with her seven year old daughter. There was a beggar on the corner in front of the fast food restaurant with the obligatory sign. Thinking she would teach her daughter that not everyone is so fortunate in this world, she purchased a meal (a fully loaded hamburger and a large order of fries) for the man. Watching VERY carefully, she told her daughter to go up to the beggar and give him the meal. She offered the bagged meal to him. He knocked it from her hands, shouting, "CASH, bitch, CASH."

Or:

   There is one woman in my community who has a different approach..she approaches women in a parking lot with "can I ask you a question?" The first time she hit me up with this was about six months ago. I was caught unawares. She walked up to me as I was putting groceries in my truck. She pointed out the horse decal on my truck, smiling and said, "Can I ask you a question?" Thinking she was a fellow horseman, I said "sure". That's when she asked for some money to 'get back to Portland, I am escaping a bad situation and need gas money." I was stuck. I gave her a buck. 
   Fast forward to yesterday. Same area, same come on, and most likely the same beggar, although this time the woman was in her car. Which is probably where she is living, as it's been freezing cold. This time, although it took me a minute to recognize her, she pulled up in front of me, and said, "Can I ask you a question?"  I stopped, looked hard at her and said "No." She pointed at my 1st Cav decal on my truck and asked anyway: "Were you in the 1st Cav?" I said yes. "Do you know Robert (I didn't catch the last name, and wouldn't have admitted it if I had). I said "no. It's a big unit." She began talking but I refused to be suckered again. Got in my truck and left, hoping she didn't follow.


  I do not believe that these beggars are truly homeless. 

   That being said, I have, on occasion, run into people who truly are destitute. One time I saw a woman rummaging around in a clothing dropoff bin. She looked..rough. Not mean, but obviously, she was someone who had been on the streets for a while. There was something about her that told me that there was a mental instability issue there. She was NOT begging. So I rolled down my car window, said, Excuse, me, could you use this? and handed her a dollar. She was astounded and said Thank you.

   Every once in a while, you will see a beggar who isn't trying to con you into giving up cash through guilt. His sign will say:

    Only once have I run into a 'person' that I truly wished I could have helped. 
He was sitting at the entrance of a busy highway gas station, one where the big rigs can fuel up as well as smaller cars. He was resting with his back against his backpack. He had a large bottle of water at his feet and a cigarette in his hand.

   His sign was one of cartoons. It had: a caricature of a human face + that of a cat= Michigan.

  He wasn't begging for anything. He was hitchhiking,  looking for a ride for him and his cat to Michigan (he was a very long way from that state.)
   I turned around and purposefully stopped in front of him, rolling down my passenger side window. He looked up, surprised. I saw the cat behind him...a handsome gray and white tuxedo cat wearing a harness. I handed the young man a five dollar bill. "Good luck!" I said. The cat said "Row?"  with a dignified air of hopefulness.
The young man said "Thank you!" and to the hopeful cat, "No, buddy, it's not our ride."

  That tore me up. Had I been able to, I would have given him and his cat enough bus money to make it to Michigan. I wish him good luck and fortune, and hope he made it to Michigan with his best friend...a cat.

  







 

What the rich will be forced to learn once Trump is in Office

The rich have no idea what they have done by purchasing the White House for Donald Trump.

Just think of it. 

They're going to have to learn how to mow their own lawns.

Benedict Cumberbatch in "Doctor Strange" Movie review

   I'm not a comic book reader. Nor am I familiar with the Marvel characters or movies. I was force fed one of their movies a few years ago on a long flight. It had something to do with Captain America. I found the movie to be...well, stupid. Lots of blood and thunder but nothing of any substance. The characters were as flat and insipid as the actors playing them. They were pretty boys playing comic book characters. 

   Lucky for me, I had no idea, then, that "Doctor Strange" was one, a Marvel Studios production and two, a Marvel comic book character. Lucky because I probably wouldn't have gone to see it. In fact, I had heard of it and had not given it a bit of attention until I heard the name of the main actor: Benedict Cumberbatch.

    I am an unabashed fan of Benedict Cumberbatch. He's talented, has a smouldering sexuality that attracts women like flies, and is disturbingly handsome.

   The first time I heard his name, several years ago,  I was annoyed. What an ugly name, Cumberbatch. But it wasn't his fault, of course, and I am old enough to say to myself, don't dislike him for his name, for pete's sakes.

   Then I got hooked on "Sherlock". Oh my god. "Sherlock". I am "Sherlocked". I cannot get enough of Sherlock. I loved the Sherlock Holmes series with Jeremy Brett. I watched every episode. I loved his portrayal, until Benedict C took it on with a contemporary twist. If it can be said that there is a better portrayal of Holmes than Brett's, it can only be that of Benedict Cumberbatch. Yes, much of this is due to it's "today" and it's retread-and new twists, of stories...and solutions..I already know. 

   Now that I am a fan, I see him in movies I had no idea he played in. For instance, he was the poff Major in "War Horse", probably the best horse movie ever made. 

He's been around for a long time, morphing into roles without a bit of effort. But I digress.

   "Sherlock" introduced me to a man who is probably the best actor this world has ever seen. Cumberbatch is...an ectomorph. Whatever role he plays, he becomes it. If he were an animal he'd be an octopus, a creature famous for its ability to BECOME whatever it is sitting on. Effortlessly. Believably. Sympathetically. 

Yes, those who know his "Sherlock" know that sympathy is not a word to be used for Sherlock, nor even empathy. But Cumberbatch breathes life and realism into every character he plays. If you didn't see "The Imitation Game", DO. 

   Because there is no better actor on earth. 

   For instance, we Americans pretend that we can affect a believable English accent. However, few if any English actors do the opposite. One, they know better. Brits don't want to sound American (or even Canadian), they want to sound English because they know there's not an American who doesn't love an English accent. We adore it. The Brits Speak Proper English, without the slang, without the lazy pronounciation,  without the southern drawl that seems so prevalent in American movies. No, they use multi-syllable words. They treat the English language with respect. 

Yet it took me the entire movie to realize that Cumberbatch had affected an American accent, so flawlessly and so perfectly that you would never guess he was English.


"Doctor Strange" is a strange movie, and thank all the stars, NOT a typical (if that one movie I sat through on a five hour flight was any indication) Marvel movie. This is a killer of a movie. It, of course, strains credulity but, isn't that what movies do? Take you out of your mundane world and send you, willy-nilly, into a different one? There you go, in "Strange". It's FUN. It's full of bad guys who are both scary to look at and easy to hate. They're not half assed villains, no, they are full on bad guys. Mads Mikkelsen plays Kasilius, the uber villain who bears an amazing resemblance to Vladimir Putin-and is just as evil. There are twists to the good guys, as well. These are flawed people. Just like us.

   Cumberbatch plays a brain surgeon..a very egotistical and talented brain surgeon, who loses the use of his hands in a terrifyingly realistic car accident. (by the way, it happened because he was distracted by his smart phone. Shut off your damned phone and DRIVE.)
Have you ever noticed how Hollywood makes a car wreck look dreadful and yet the airbags never deploy and the actors walk off without a scratch? Not this time, holy shit, that's a bad wreck and Cumberbatch comes out of it looking hideous. 

   Of course, being the arrogant asshole that he is, Doctor Strange lashes out in fury at everyone in his world at the loss of his talented hands. He goes off to find someone who can restore them by some metaphysical miracle. 

  He enters a world full of sorcerers, spells and some very, very innovative special effects. 

It's a good movie, a lot of fun, and definitely worth the price of the ticket. 

By the way, do NOT leave before the complete end of the credits, that seem to roll on for days. There was a couple of battalions of people working on that film. No, sit through the credits, because there's a surprise. 

Mr. Cumberbatch, congratulations. I stand in slack jawed awe at your talent.
 
Benedict, I liked "Doctor Strange". Well done. Terrific job. Now get back to SHERLOCK, damn it...

My Mom won't let me move back in.

Yeah, you’re right. You’re grown.

Y’know, I tried. I did my damnedest. I’m sure you remember all the things I said. I know I pissed you off…you told me often, in angry terms loaded with profanity and disrespect. I asked too many questions, I gave you too many orders. Your responses were usually monosyllabic, resentful, and evasive. 

I remember very well. I would ask you a question. You would answer with “I don’t know’.

I’m sure you remember what I asked, or what I said to you. I know you remember because you told me so, you told me how much you hated it. 

The only times you spoke to me were when you wanted something.

When I wanted something, you shut me out. Remember?

I bet you remember the things I "ordered you", or chastised you for:

Stay in school. Let me see your report card. You’re in trouble again. You told me you were going to the mall, but you lied. 
Say "please" and "thank you". 

Yes, you have to be home by eight, it's a school night.  No, you cannot drive my car. You want a driver’s license; you have to go to driver’s training.

Come and eat the dinner I made. No, you can't eat with your cellphone by your plate.

Don’t curse me. I am not ‘bitch’ “ho” “fucker’. Stop using that language. Clean up your room. Get up; you’re going to miss the bus. No, you are not going to smoke.

Do your homework. Why did you skip school? No, you cannot sleep over at that girl’s house. I am not a bitch. 
Do you want help with your math homework?

Get off your butt and clean your room. Do not bring those people into my house. No, I will not give you money. You have to earn it. Mow the lawn. Clean up after yourself. Take out the garbage.  Do your homework. Stay in school.

This is not English. There is no such word as “u”.

You forged my signature on this pass, didn’t you?

Knowing how to read is more important than you think. Texting is not reading.

Shut off the television. Turn down that music.

Clean up after yourself. I am not your slave. I will not replace that thing you broke due to carelessness. I will not buy you another jacket after you lent yours to someone else.

I do love you but not when you call me names. I don’t care what someone else’s mother lets her do. No, you will not stay out late with a boy you like. I will not allow a boy in this house who uses language like that.

Shut off the computer. No, you cannot play those video games. I will not buy you a smart phone.

Do not steal. Don’t lie to me. That’s not yours, put it back. Shoplifting is a crime. Do you want to go to juvie?

Your father works hard to keep a roof over your head. We can’t afford that. You’re not going to be eating junk food instead of the dinner I cooked.

You are not old enough to be drinking. You will not do that in this house. You’re not old enough to be having sex.

You do not need shoes that cost $250.00  What is the name of the friend you’re meeting ‘at school” and what will you be doing.  Where are you going? Who are you going to be with? What did you do at school today?

 I do understand. I am not going to give you money. A job is a job; it doesn’t matter if you like it. I will not give you a credit card.

I will not sign for a loan for you. If you want to go to college, you have to keep your grades up.

 Yeah, now you remember. These were the reasons why you wanted to move out.  You don't want to admit that all these 'orders' were precipitated by something YOU did-or didn't-do.

All these things made you angry. All I ever did was give you 'orders'. You didn’t listen. You didn’t hear me when I tried to teach you, mentor you, and guide you. You don’t remember those things, do you? You don’t remember when I tried to do what every parent is required to do. Remember all the things I "made" you do, required of you, asked of you? You never considered why. When you refused to do the things I asked of you, you 'knew' it was because I was a mean bitch, your father was an asshole. This is what I asked of you:

Let me teach you how to budget.

Let me teach you manners. 

Let me help you with your homework. 

Let me teach you to read, to write, to get the most out of your free schooling.

Let me teach you how to stay healthy.

Let me teach you how to prepare for a job interview.

Let me teach you courtesy, consideration, timeliness.

Let me teach you how to deal with people who have more power than you.

Let me teach you how to take care of yourself.

Let me teach you how babies are made, and how to prevent them.

Let me teach you how to cook, do laundry, keep a checkbook, to plan ahead, to think things through. 

Let me teach you skills you are going to need when you grow up.

Let me help you. Let me teach you. 

Let me in. 

I knew that you would need these skills. But you refused to listen or learn. 

Now you are ‘grown’. You moved out to be free of us. You did things: screwed around in college and flunked out. Got evicted because you didn't pay your rent. You moved in with your boyfriend who is married and went back to his wife. Can't join the Army because you have a record. Got fired from an entry level job that actually required you to show up on time and do work. Got your girlfriend pregnant. Broke into someone’s house and got caught. Got busted for drugs, for underage drinking, for identity theft.  Your car got repossessed because you didn't make the payments. Bounced checks and now have bad credit. Can't get a good job because of the tattoo on your face. 

 I didn’t teach you that. You did that because you 'knew what you were doing'.   

You were raised by us, with all that that means: food, housing, clothing, utilities, chauffeuring, medical care, schooling.It just came to you, like the air you breathe. Right?

 It never occurred to you that all this was provided to you because I was responsible for you when you were a child. You weren't required to pay for them. Adults provide, children consume.  What was required of you: household chores, keeping yourself and your room, clean, helping around the house, going to school every day,  being mannerly and respectful of others was the only way we could teach you to be an independent citizen. But you rejected it. You didn't like taking orders, being made to 'work'. All you wanted was for us to give you money and to leave you alone to do what you wanted.  You called us "bitch" and "fucker". You hated us. 

Now you're an adult.

You’re 19. You’re 21. You’re 24. All grown up and I can’t tell you what to do, never again. You are free to live your life as you choose.  You are an ‘adult’. You don’t have to listen to me anymore.  

But guess what?

This is MY house. My electricity, my internet, my food. My bathroom, hot shower, bed with clean sheets. My refrigerator, my kitchen. My dishwasher. My car, my bank account, my credit card.  I choose who lives here, because, like you, I am all grown up. Doing what I want, with no mom or dad giving me orders.  I don't have to take orders from YOU.

I know why you are here. You refused to listen, to learn, to hear. Now you’re finding out that the world is a tough place in which to live. You refused to learn the skills you need now to live in it. Now you are finding that things cost money: cars, houses, rent, food, computers, utilities, clothes. You don't have any money. You know that I do.  So you want to come back and live under my roof.  You want to live like you did when you were a child-free of all responsibilities, to do what you want. You want to be treated like an adult. You want none of the rules I’d imposed, no expectation of reciprocation, and most especially, free of charge.  Are you going to pay rent? Utilities? Buy your own food, cook it, and clean it up? Are you going to get a job? Buy a car?

Why should I let you back into my house?

“I don’t know” doesn’t cut it anymore. Because I DO know. You want it back like it used to be, for free. Because back when you were a child, life was easy. You didn't have to worry about money.  Now life is hard, too hard for you. You want me to take care of you, without the nagging, but  with all the benefits and none of the responsibilities. Because you're an adult now and expect to be treated like one, unlike how you treated me.

I’m sure you will recognize my response. You should, you used it on me all the time. 

No.

No, I will not let you move back in.

No, you can’t have your room back.

No, you cannot leave your dog here.

No, you cannot leave your stuff here. 
No, you cannot eat my food. 

No, I will not post your bail, or lend you my car, or let your girlfriend live here. 

No, I will not give you money or co-sign a loan or hide you from the police.

No, I will not take care of the baby for you. It’s your child, not mine. I  am not going to raise it, or babysit for free. 

You go right ahead and call me names, like bitch or fucker. I'm used to them, coming from you.  You knew exactly what you are doing, so you go out and do it all on your own, like the grown up you are.

The free ride is over.

You are all grown up. But you know what? So am I.

Emancipation works both ways.

Kubo and the Two Strings-no spoilers but DO go see it.

“Kubo and the Two Strings” Movie Review

This is an odd one in that it’s a stop action animation (although it is so seamless you will never know it) and a story that probably has never been heard in America.

Set in medieval Japan, it stars a boy who lives alone with, and serves as caretaker for his widowed mother. It’s not explained why until late in the movie, but it is obvious that something is very wrong with Mom. The boy, Kubo, has an amazing talent with the samisen (a stringed instrument from Japan) and origami, the art of folding paper into shapes.

The backgrounds alone are worth the price of the ticket, but the story carries you along so well the scenery barely registers-until it has a part to play. For instance, the ocean’s awesome yet mindless power is extremely apparent in the beginning of the movie. It may be to me, because I am a landlubber, prone to seasickness at the drop of a bow.

Characters are all believable. The good people are good, the villains extremely villainous, and the special effects are incredible.

George Takei plays a small ‘walk on’ role. I do wish they’d given him the primary male lead’s part, especially because he is Japanese, but it was not to be.

Pay attention to the strings. Despite the title, there are 3. They are symbolic and play a very important part.

A friend asked me how I liked it, as she was contemplating taking her 3 year old granddaughter.

NO. Despite it being an animation, there are some frightening scenes in it that a 3 year old can’t handle. I’d say 8 and above.

Don’t walk out at the end of the movie. The credits roll accompanied by the unforgettable licks of George Harrison (the only Beatle with any talent) covered by someone I don’t know who. I have to say that the cover band did a better job than Harrison, especially by adding taiko drums!  After the credits roll, there’s an outtake of the actual production that you must see. Keep a real close eye on what that skeleton tries.

If I were asked to give it stars, I’d I’d give it 5.

Dylann Roof gets slugged in jail.

  This punk murdered nine people after spending an hour in church with them.

   The murdered people were black. Roof, as you can see, is white. He styled himself a confederate flag waving, gun toting white supremicist. With his baby face and ability to fool some very kind people, he got into a church where the people took him in. I'm not religious...I'm atheist. But they were minding their own business.  They took him despite his color. They opened their arms to him, welcoming him.

   He killed them all. He'd planned it meticulously and felt not a lick of remorse. They extended kindness and generosity, and he blew them all away. Why? They were black. And trusting, and gentle.

   Now he is in jail, awaiting trial. For some reason, he's in protective custody. NO DOUBT. Given the details of his crime, and the fact that most guys in prison are black, (and let's not forget that baby face of his), he's probably been on a hit list for a while. So now not only do we have him on the gravy train...three hots and a cot for the rest of his life, now he has to have a body guard. 

  You know what, asshole?  If you're such a big man to do that crime, you should be big enough to handle your ass in jail.  I would have had your ass in the General Population from the git go.
But...those guys in prison, they aren't church going, gentle folk. Are they? No. They aren't lambs. They aren't even wolves. They're humans, the most dangerous animal on the planet. Thought you were tough guy, big White Punk? That don't mean a thing in prison. Nope. As Richard Pryor's doberman once said to him, "Try that again, mother fucker."

  Well, someone in jail got to him. Some black man. Smart man, he didn't kill Roof, just sucker punched him. Any assault charge isn't going to change a thing, but his status with other inmates just took a big jump.

   You had it coming, Roof. I'm really surprised it took this long, but the corrections officers were doing their job too well. 
I read your manifesto. I am amazed. Despite your racism,  you write fairly well. But it doesn't mean you're anything but a self centered punk. Thought you were going to save the white world? Right. What you should have done was look at white people (and I am white) through the eyes of, say, the Native Americans. The Indians had this country for 20, 000 years before white folks introduced them to concepts like genocide and mass murder. 
Killing people doesn't solve anything. But their deaths did do some good...it got one more roach like you out into the sunlight, where we can snatch you up and cage you like the vermin you are.  
   You had it coming, asshole. And I hope next time the guy who gets you does more than jackslap your murderous ass.