Showing posts with label train station hobo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label train station hobo. Show all posts

Saturday, 11 June 2011

red light challenges


Ever heard of the working poor? Sure thing that this guy isn't choosing to sleep, slumped over in the bus-stop after work.

A wild guess; he is employed yet doesn't have much in ways of options for sleeping arrangements -- maybe he catches a rest before working another job... maybe that's as good as shelter gets for that evening. Some people live in motels until they get thrown out for any number of reasons; others couch surf in an un-fun way; others give up their pride and get to a shelter. Maybe if people cared to ask why he's there, but they don't.

Now we can only care about how strong the caffeine fix is in the morning in order to slog the 9am-5pm and wonder how ever pay off student loans and mortgages.

However, the people living on society's fringes, they can't even dream of having a student loan or house with a mortgage. There's many people who are too proud, too stubborn, too desperate to expect anyone would help. So we're stuck with guilt when we notice them and don't really think they will ever to get ahead. Sometimes with a lack of education past Jr High probably doesn't help and lack of permanent address doesn't particularly induce proper study conditions when temporary de-housed. A nice politically correct phrase for homeless -- sounds more like de-loused.

When a few blogs exist where bloggers complain about fashion week being so lame or getting 2% milk instead of soy in their chai latte, suck it up.

They shouldn't complain if they don't have to know how to get rid of bed-bugs and lice from lack of places to get hygiene.

Itchy sheets are one thing, but the subject of lack of, or mis-diagnosis of mental health issues, in simple terms -- the wrong drugs won't do anything for the real problem -- educated guess. Create worse side affects fairly quickly for either numbing down the wrong part of the brain or system in the body. Worse kill confidence in someone to think they could never actively participate in larger society again.

So for the people who complain that star bucks was better before they got all trendy or whatever fashionable hang-out where cool people exist. I don't know, I've rarly even been nor will probably know where to find a bubble tea house, tapas bar (provincial Spanish buffet is in now) or chillax lounge or whatever the rage is now... at least people with wrongly diagnosised star bucks drink can function in society.

Guess what? Suck it up if there's no reservations for the tapas bar and go to Denny's.

My only complaint to the barista at star bucks was why people are more worried drunks are driving when I am more groggy at the wheel, Drunks try to stay away from driving. Don't worry, I was driving with the window open with a blast of cold air to wake up. I know... I should suck it up.

Which is pretty much all working poor people get when they sleep in their car with all their worldly possessions stuffed in the trunk. They suck it up.

Why tackle issues? With lack-there-of social housing, assistance unless someone is completely up the creek paddle-less -- with an incapacitating accidental dismemberment, mental health issue or incurable disease. there's everyone else who could use a hand-up instead of just a hand-out. Many could rant on and on about how there needs to be more programs from the government: Ways to catch those who fall through the school system's cracks and end up on crack to self-medicate.

Does coffee count as self-medicating to stay awake at work from over-working? I won't touch that one right now. I'll suck it up until i've had enough at 5pm.

The media won't touch it either because it's not a kid with cancer who may be cured if there's enough fundraising done. Proper society always will say NIMBY! There's so many safety and security concerns from those with children for valid reasons of attracting the wrong crowd of supports from pimps to drug pushers. people sketching out while in the process of rehab and cold turkey or binging as they break down and give in.

I guess for blonde barbies in a Chevy Malibu or Madza Miata, adjusting their make-up in the rear-view mirror while texting about how much it sucks to be stuck at a red-light, suck it up

 It's not like they worry about when they'll next get a shower. Going to a homeless shelter has a slight chance of having all earthly possessions of a back-pack stolen or rooted through while just trying to get five minutes to shower down. Too many red-light barriers for keeping a job, not any time to do make-up either.

Not when working poor. They suck it up. Don't pity them, just keep encouraging them or at least the people who want to work with them to get them to a better place. We can only suck so much up before we need to breathe and try to find some relief. Hope it happens soon.

-- PLR --

p.s. hope this flows okay as I'm trying a writing style with this idea to put everything in perspective of this editorial. And I have nothing against barbies in malibu chevys, I admit it's a cheap shot to prove a point.

p.s.s. so update from my nursing student girlfriend, sometimes people go off meds because nobody in the community encourages them to continue taking meds, sometimes they feel better so they figure they don't need meds anymore and think they aren't 'sick' anymore, why bother taking medication if someone doesn't cold medication even if the bacterial infection isn't completely killed off, same thing goes for anti-psychotics.

Does alcohol work? Does the disease go away? Apparently there an entire unit for concurrent (dual diagnosis) in the mental health hospital, because people have the worst deal, alcoholic guy with schizophrenia got turned away from AA meeting because he was hearing voices and sitting in the corner telling the voices to stop. Just a FYI of future articles on people.

Wednesday, 9 September 2009

surreal ctrain station

(reposting some stuff from my facebook notes because I'd like to fill out my blog a bit more right away so here's some retro stuff)

"everyone's beautiful, see lot of ugly people on the street, with a little love they wouldn't be so ugly, wouldn't be so broken" ~long beach shortbus


Yours truly reporting long after the c-train riders was stuck with an awkward social situation that probably normal everyday life if arriving at the infamous 8th street station.

People milling off the train hesistating and then taking a different route, sighs of exasperation and pity, hedging around to exit down different stairs.

Decency to go around instead of stepping over the passed out guy draped over having tumbled up the stairs.

Surreal how people just didn't know what to do. So they didn't remain around and be bothered. After all, it was after lunch break so they probably had to get back to work, fair enough.

Having to do something, this citizen had to make contact and see if the guy was still alive, and just barely.

Tapping, and then smacking the curled up hand, yelling "are you okay" got no response, so searching and finding a fast pacing pulse, an odd sensation.

While phoning EMS, it was hard to figure out why people were giving a second glance at the odd gesture -- though it seemed a few of his friends came and checked that someone was calling 9-1-1.

A few moments later, the PA speakers came on asking someone to step forward to the emergency button and assist the transit authorities in dealing with an emergency.

The speaker had to ask four times.

Meanwhile, still on the phone with the 9-1-1 operator, this reporter had a guilty thought of not wanting to be late for a doctor's appointment.

Yet stuck around as asked to describe age, gender and location. checking breathing, chance of choking on vomit and if there was any visual response, which there was none.

Wasn't sure what to do if the operator had asked for CPR to be done. Learned lesson of why to carry a resusitation mask but there was no need.

The cop showed up and went about getting this guy's attention.

Not responding to prodding with foot or shaking, so lightly wacked in the solar plex, the guy groggly roll over and tell the cop where he could stick it.

The cop knew him by name.

As he roughly hauled him to his feet, the foul awakening cursing of the cop got him handcuffed and searched less gently.

By this time, paramedics had shown up for another false alarm.

The paramedics knew him by name too.

They reassured him they were taking him for a warm shower back at the shelter, which was what the guy lacked.

It seemed the show was finished and over a dozen people left shaking their heads and muttering about wasting tax-payer resources on the wasted.

At the same time, the rough act of force seemed to contradict as the cop stayed with the paramedics to make sure he was ok to walk while he scolded the guy to look after himself better.

It's frustrating to see a life almost completely gone down the tube, when the guy seemed about the same age as this reporter.

The phrase, "but for the good Grace of God, there am I" rung a little truer.

Wednesday, 8 October 2008

Sir Edmund Hillary Slumbers Outside City Hall's Steps

He was so stone drunk, tired, hungry and almost lost his will for living.

One of his friends was trying to shake him to wake up and go get dinner at the drop-in centre.

Watched his buddy for a few minutes trying to rouse him. Dead to the world wearing a dirty sweater and white jeans. No clue how they were still reasonable white.

Sighed and walked up as everyone else walked around him passed out under the tree.

Shook him on the shoulder, no response. Tapped him hard on the foot and got a groan of response.

At least he was still alive, which was my more immediate thought to check that he was still breathing.