Emergency Assistance: Thank You Freya - Happy Birthday@me:)

Fuzzy logic

My week begins with $100 from Freya to help replace art supplies lost in my earlier arrest and police raid of my belongings and a reminder to all that I am still $250 away from being able to replace the Lumix camera, tripod and artists easel confiscated and miscataloged by the NYPD. During most days I spend the mornings networking the job scene, the afternoons supporting Occupy at Union Square and the rest of my time fighting the cops - yes, Mayor Bloomberg's self stated "personal army" who have taken up full-time residence against Occupy, the first amendment and anything that smells like it might threaten their boss' job.(Continued...)

This blog. aHBiNYC is now available as an eBook. It covers the writer's homeless experiences in New York City from September 11, 2011 through January 2013 in 245 pages and 50 chapters. To order simply use the PayPal button in the sidebar, send $10, and include your email address in the PayPal memo form. Thank you.

Emergency Assistance: Thank You Alex

Arrest me before I 
can speak freely. 

On 27 April I was arrested for being a participant in Occupy Wall Street. You can read that story here. As I was in police custody and working to secure my release, the NYPD raided the Occupy camp at Union Square and confiscated my personal rolling luggage as 'unattended' amongst other group property. That story is here. Inside that luggage was all the paint, brushes and supplies I use to make protest signs for the movement, and to collect donations that support my and the work of the movement. In one day, in a completely illegal arrest of an individual and theft of his personal belongings, a person was not only accused of crimes not committed, but denied the ability to support himself in his attempts to exercise his (and your) first amendment rights. And what's left of middle class America tucks in the kids and settles down to a hot cup of Nestle's cocoa, secure in the fact that the American dream is alive and well and the grass will still need cutting on Saturday. Or maybe not. (Continued...)

This blog. aHBiNYC is now available as an eBook. It covers the writer's homeless experiences in New York City from September 11, 2011 through January 2013 in 245 pages and 50 chapters. To order simply use the PayPal button in the sidebar, send $10, and include your email address in the PayPal memo form. Thank you.

Emergency Assistance: Thank You Melissa

On Wednesday, just hours after my post for emergency assistance, I received a PayPal notice of deposit for $50 from a woman I had not heard from in years. It was the first help I've seen since my illegal arrest and the confiscation of my property by the NYPD last Friday. The next day, I received the following note: 

"I've been keeping up with your journeys via your blog and various updates that you do such a great job of putting out across the social media spectrum. Bravo! Your journalism is both candid and captivating. I'm terribly sorry to hear of the arrest and loss of your of supplies. I hope that I was able to help in some way. What you're doing takes some real balls and I absolutely admire that."

Demand #4623

And Melissa and I have never met. A few years ago, while I was living in Vietnam, Melissa had been referred to me by a colleague for some assistance in helping her secure an internship at my alma mater, Leo Burnett - so my job was to be a virtual mentor of sorts. Melissa never got that job and I never became the President of America but we've both gone on to Occupations that suit our talents and places in life. Melissa occupies a 9-5 insurance job in Las Vegas and I occupy New York City in hopes of bringing positive social change to a world that greatly needs it. Yet our missions are the same. Contrary to many people's beliefs, the Occupy movement is not anti-capitalism,  but it is anti-irresponsible capitalism. And contrary as well to conventional wisdom, occupiers may not have conventional jobs, but they definitely have a collective Occupation. With well over 12 hours a day invested in Occupy over the last 8 months, my being arrested by the NYPD has signaled that I am so constant an Occupier and so resilient an artist that I have now become a threat. And generally, this is a good thing. That means that I am doing very, very well at my job. Rarely a day goes by at Union Square that I am not approached by the 9-5 class and given thanks for doing a job that they are not able to do. And that job is to raise awareness about the issues that affect humankind the most - Economic justice - The right to a job and home - and non-profit healthcare for all.

Without the 9-5 Melissas and others out there, Occupy could never survive - but together we can continue to reshape and control the destiny that is our lives and the lives and futures of our children, grandchildren and beyond. Long live this Occupation. And thank you again Melissa.

Emergency: Donations Needed - After Arrest, NYPD Steals My Business, Belongings and Portable Home

Scene of no crime

As per my previous story on being arrested on the morning of April 27th, that day, while I was in police custody, officer Lombardo and crew raided the OWS (legal) encampment on 15th Street and confiscated not only our OWS donations box, but my personal belongings in the form of a rolling suitcase containing all my artwork, supplies, paints, brushes, clothing and a Lumix camera I had been given as a gift. When confronted by OWS supporters objecting to the removal of the luggage, the officer responded, "That guy was arrested this morning - so his stuff is 'unattended'. Haul it." So in the space of one day, the NYPD not only arrested me illegally, but confiscated both my business and my home in one rolling cart. Somehow, I'm sure America is safer for this:)

To restart my sign-painting business, replace my camera and regain my rolling home, I am again soliciting donations (many of you helped me with a phone earlier this year). Yes, I find it deplorable that our law enforcement officials are being actively aggressive towards the homeless and in my case, even taking the small supplies that I use to make my income. Denying a man a home is one thing. Denying him the right to work is quite another - that denies him the right to better his life.

Please help fight this injustice and contribute liberally to this cause. A recent comment to my post, "Arresting Developments" stated, "You make us all proud, David. We can't all be there, but you're a terrific surrogate." With that sentiment, please understand two things:

1) I have been homeless since September 11, 2011.

2) I am on the front line fighting against economic injustice every day with Occupy Wall Street in New York since September 18th, 2011.

Please use the PayPal donation button in the left sidebar and help me survive to fight again another day.

Arresting Developments

Street Graffiti 

On Friday, April 27th, I was arrested by the NYPD for essentially, being an Occupier. When asked why I was being arrested, officer Kevin Wahlig said, "I don't know, a couple of things. We'll discuss it on the way to the station." Not until much later in the day before my arraignment in court was I aware of the actual charges and I was never read my rights. Stated as (1) Disorderly Conduct and (2) Resisting Arrest, I found the charges interesting in that my conduct was one of sleeping on the sidewalk and my resistance to arrest was premeditated in the officer's mind, well before I was actually arrested. It seemed immediately that preparations for disrupting Occupy's May Day plans were underway.

According to a 2000 court order from the New York State Supreme Court, sleeping is protected as a form of "public expression", so I couldn't possibly being arrested for that, could I? Well, not legally, but if my sleeping was disorderly I suppose I could be cited (funny just thinking about that - "You hogged all the  covers so now you're under arrest!").

My Occupation

The police had come at 6:30am to wake up a host of Occupiers sleeping across the street from HSBC and helping Max in his vigil to highlight the plight of the homeless. I had awaken but fallen back to sleep due to a succession of rainy days and need of sleep. Waking me a second time no less than four officers were in charge of me with Wahlig taking the lead. As I prepared to collect my things and began putting on my shoes I was asked for my ID which I produced and continued packing up. Asking for my ID back was when I was told I was being arrested, so I immediately reached for a cigarette (knowing I wouldn't have one all day) and began to light it - but that set the four officers off in a flurry of trying to grab my hands to handcuff. Arms pulled behind me, entirely too much force was used to detain a 143lb man and the cuffs wrenched so tightly my left wrist was bruised and cut - my body pushed around and manhandled as if they needed to create a scuffle to make it look like something was happening. But nothing was happening except another routine illegal arrest of a member of Occupy Wall Street.

Sign of the times

Since the beginning of Occupy on September 17th, 2011 over 17 million dollars have been spent in NYPD overtime, policing a non-violent movement and over 2200 arrests have been made according to the National Lawyers Guild. I wonder how much it costs to arrest a homeless man for sleeping? Whatever the cost, it's too much taxpayer money that could be going to creating jobs and alleviating the homeless problem in the US, but in NYC it seems no amount is too much when it comes to funding the police department. Earlier in the week I overheard an officer say, "I hate Occupy but I love the overtime". Great. That's your tax dollars at work, harassing citizens, suppressing free speech and taking us yet one step closer to a police state - with officers just making up the laws as they go. At Occupy though, we see the NYPD overreaction as a measure of our success. Only if we are truly a threat to the status quo would they react with the brute force and numbers that they have.

My day proceeded with being handcuffed and thrown into a van, not able to take my rolling cart with all my artwork and clothing in it. So I left it with my fellow Occupiers, sure that they would keep an eye on things and I could pick it up later - but that would not be the case either. Once at the station I was relieved of my personal belongings, finger-printed, retnal-scanned and pitched into an empty cell. With no other customers that morning I was doing all I could to keep Precinct 13 alive and buzzing with the smell of a fresh kill. This crime fighting stuff is indeed a serious business.

An hour at the precinct and I was transferred downtown in a van to what is referred to as Central Booking. It's basically a city jail and as opposed to the rules at the precinct where I was required to remove my belt so I didn't hang myself from the shame of my charges, I kept my belt, wallet and ID and was put in a large cell with 10 or so other prisoners - and if one had to judge the state of criminal activity by this lot, it might be assumed that we were all living on Sesame Street. One guy was in for "moving cardboard" in an attempt to arrange a warm sleeping spot for himself. Another for DWI, of which he seemed totally capable, and yet another for short paying a cabbie claiming the guy ripped him off by driving a longer route. No axe murderers, armed robbers or drug dealers. Unless prisoners are arranged by the severity of their crimes it seemed this early morning crew of primarily black and hispanic customers were doing nothing but giving the cops a way to keep their operations budget and make the monthly arrest quota with just days to spare.

Hours passed and we were served dry bread with a piece of cheese on it for lunch at noon. Hours more passed and we were served another two pieces of dry bread with cheese on it for dinner at six - and by this time, very few people had been processed through to arraignment. So we were basically sitting around with our thumbs up our butts comparing charges - all misdemeanors. Finally, a number of us were moved to another cell to be able to speak with our respective attorneys. We were transferred by chain gang, all handcuffed together and began, one by one, to have short meetings with our public defenders. Outside we could hear both the police statements of events and the accused accounts. During the DWI guy's meeting we could hear the attorney speaking on the phone with the guy's wife who was downstairs posting bail for her husband. "She wants to know if there's a bar in the building", the attorney said, "While she waits for you to get out". Funny, this 'he and she' separated by phone and crossbars, seemed the perfect couple for the times.

My attorney had been arranged by the National Lawyer's Guild and came prepared to hear the trumped up charges. Representing the Legal Aid Society who had been retained by NLG to handle an overflow of cases (Of the over 2200 arrests made of Occupiers, nearly 700 from the Brooklyn bridge march back in October are now finally going to trial) currently going through the system, he recommends that we fight the charges instead of taking a plea bargain that would drop them after six months if I remained out of trouble. Now knowing the police can just make up charges whenever they want, I didn't feel confident that I could keep out of jail until then, and with any other arrests, even bullshit ones, I would be looking possibly guilty on the standing charge - and so I agree with my council and decide to fight. It's a no-brainer since we're now seven months into  the battle anyway. Methinks it's time to start winning.

Up In The Air

Arraigned and out before 9pm, I make my way back to Union Square only to find that the police had harassed and raided the Occupy tables there and confiscated my rolling cart with the rest of my clothing and all of my street art business (Signs illustrated in photos here). Eye witness reports of Officer Lombardo from the 7th precinct rolling away my cart are plentiful and I have photography and video of the heist. Now I was not only homeless, but jobless by nature of harassment and theft by the NYPD. It seems once one is down, the procedure is to keep them there and I can assure you, the police are doing their best to oppress the less well-armed. Today I was asked if I ever thought I would get the bag back. "I don't know", I responded. But I can guarantee you, once I get back in the business of making those clever protest signs, I have a whole new target to aim fun at. It's generally a bad idea to piss off those who can write and draw:)

It's time the NYPD is outed and rightfully disrespected for the childish and boorish organization they have become - arresting the developments of a society that has had quite enough of the rich getting richer while the poor become continually poorer. I have not yet begun to fight.

#DONATE: Support Your Friendly Neighborhood #Occupier This Holiday Season!

"That's funny, he doesn't look homeless", said the folks at the TV station when they queried me about doing a story. "And he doesn't look like an Occupier either",  I thought.

Thanks to a very good old friend, I was the proud recipient of a new set of clothing this week sent all the way from Wisconsin. Shoes, a hat, shirt, gloves, sweater, pants and socks all made their way here and onto the runway at our Occupied church on the upper east side. "You clean up well", said my fellow Occupiers. "Quite the entrance", said those I had a meeting with on Tuesday night.

But the feeling one gets in putting on brand new clothing after months of wearing the exact same set is incomparable to anything I have ever known. For the first time in three months I felt like an actual human - and I didn't feel like I had been checked out of the 30th St. men's prison (shelter) to get there. So now I'm all spit shined and ready to rock. Almost.

Over the next few weeks the holidays will pass, the 2012 job market will start to come into focus and that's where I need to be. The life of an Occupier is all well and good, but it's not a full-time gig,  doesn't pay the bills and whilst it does provide me with a more than curious place to live and at least a meal a day, it's far short of a real life - and moreover, well into the stats that determine poverty levels in the US  where 1 in 6 Americans live. Many Occupiers receive Food Stamps ($200 per month) and cash assistance ($47 per month) and so do I - but some quick math will tell you that you cannot eat 1 Big Mac meal a day on that. And so that's where this post is going. I am asking for your support in terms of equipment and finances.

 Tools of the Trade 

Computer: On Monday, this week, my old HP computer died. Dead, kaput, finis. The thing is history - and it's not coming back (I am currently working at the Apple store). And so I need a new computer. I have seen simple Dell laptops go recently for $150 new at Best Buy but would prefer a Mac to execute design, film editing and portfolio work. My uses for job hunting, consulting and Occupation work are extensive and reasonably complex. If anyone has an outdated MacBook Pro, MacBook or even PowerBook G4 and is upgrading, please consider donating your old machine to me. Used Macs are also available on Ebay or at resellers starting at $200. This is very important. I don't know anyone who can get a job today without a computer. Please consider. I am working to see if I can provide tax-deductible status (through another institution) to those who donate so I may be able to provide receipts.

iPhone (unlocked): "Yeah sure. Occupiers and the homeless need an iPhone". But then again, it doesn't hurt to ask and the need for an Internet compatible phone is extremely high in the job hunting market today - and even the Occupation market. My phone, an old Motorola Razor works but the battery is dead. Cost of a new battery will be the same as some very cheap phones so that makes little sense. If there are any old iPhones out there, please think about sending one here. 3Gs are fine and it would be best if the phone is unlocked and can take a SIM card. I won't be able to get an AT&T or Verizon contract because I have no credit record or US address for the last 16 years. If anyone is in Vietnam, these phones are plentiful there and cheap. Cost of 3Gs start around $200 for an unlocked phone. Do consider please.

Along with any Internet connected phone, I also need to spend around $50 a month for Internet service and unlimited calling. Currently I buy $10 recharge cards and they charge 30 cents a minute for calls. That's insane. I am constantly upset by the way the poorest people in this country need to pay the most for all kinds of things. It's a guaranteed lock that they will stay poor and never be able to rise from poverty - and that includes me now as well.

Digital Camera: Should I be lucky enough to get an iPhone or other smartphone, my need for a digital camera will go away - but such a large part of my work requires that I be able to document things digitally and use them in blog posts and other projects. If you have an old digital camera, any make or model, please send it this way. I'd love to put it to good use and maybe even use it to catch some cops doing bad things with pepper spray. You never know what's going to happen on the front lines of an Occupation.

 Expenses 

Expenses for a month at even basic levels can be surprising. Currently lodging and some food are handled by Occupy and I am able to buy grocery food (but not hot meals) at stores, but other expenses are not.

Metrocard (1 mo)......................... $120

Phone charge (1 mo).................. $50

Misc. @ $10 per day (1 mo).....$300

-------------------------------------

Total (per month)                  $470

-------------------------------------

So that's the story. If you are able to donate a computer, phone or cash over the next three months it will help support an Occupier and in time, help that Occupier find full-time, meaningful work.

 How to Support 

Donations: Let's talk. You can email me here, or leave a comment in the comment box below with details (If you wish to remain anonymous, just say so and I will not print the message). One talking point for instance: I am not able to accept PayPal right now because I do not have a US bank account. $150 is needed to keep an account at no-fee and I am not there yet so I even need cash donations before I can have a bank account. But there are other ways currently to transfer and accept money. Click here for Western Union.

Will Work For Stuff: I would prefer to work for my money. If you donate any of the above items or cash, please don't forget my professional services in advertising, marketing and journalism. I am able to write and prepare plans with some design over the Internet. Please let me know your business needs and I'll be pleased to provide in-kind services for donations of equipment or cash.

I wish you all a very nice holiday and hope to be doing better in the new year.

In holiday cheer and Occupied solidarity, thank you all.

Peace,

:David

Homeless No More, The #Occupation of New York is Just the Beginning

Photo courtesy of Mr. You from Japan with his lovely old Leica

With the birth of the #Occupy movement in New York on September 15th the world began to re-imagine what it means to be without a home and create a community that reaches from the top 1% to the bottom 1%. Along with the gathering at Zuccotti Park came a plethora of foreign journalists, ever interested in America's latest craze -  protest and occupation. "What took you so long?", they all said, referencing the people's protests in Egypt, Spain and other countries in need of reformation of government and finance.

In recent days I have come to see my time at Zuccotti as magical, life changing - even life affirming. But the true measure of what we experienced and created comes in my emails every day - the photos from the event, impressions, actions and resolutions of a revolution. We have been described recently by a journalist from Croatia as "contemporary desperados" and whilst I love the idea of being somehow at odds with the law, the truth of the matter is, is that we are totally within it - the embodiment of constitutional warriors, fighting for our/your rights, the same as those who fought for our original freedom from England.

In this post I want to share some of my impressions and the impressions of others shared with me - a stream of subconsciousness impressions if you will. Every day I think I am somehow lucky to have been chosen to be in the position I am in. Rather than feel what a sorry fucking life I have because it's not like everyone else's, I feel awfully good most days. I may not have a job, but I certainly have an occupation - and a circle of people who feel exactly as I do. Here are the comments of You, a Japanese visitor to our little #OWS utopia in Zuccotti park:

Hello, Mr.David,

"I am the Japanese guy who visited Ducatti park one day and photographed you in a lovely box with my old Leica. You asked me to send pictures and gave me your mail address. Hope you remember it.

Anyway, the moment I had at the park, surrounded by millions of tents and people staying, was something very special for me. I felt like I went back to 1970s. As a photographer, I fell in love with the atmosphere indeed. Although now is the age and here is the city which we seem to be able to get food, clothes, information, and even relationship by just pressing a button, you guys were doing everything by your own hands, face to face, friendlily, and they are always interactive, never be one-way. To be honest, I would like to tell you that what you have done showed me the essence of human being and the possibility of our future.

I attached some of your pictures, hope you enjoy it. Thank you very much again.

best regard"

--you

And then there are the people who don't talk to me anymore. My sisters and my father, Marsha, an old friend, and others whom I may have thought to have been friends There is a syndrome sometimes associated with homelessness or hard times that seems to go against the grain of what families and friends should be all about. Rather than support you and try to have an understanding of your circumstance, they abandon you. Throughout my life I have talked often of being adopted and somehow feeling a bit out of body when it comes to my adopted family - but it doesn't seem to have anything to do with adoption at all. Tolstoy saw it this way: " Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. " And so my family acts out in its own way - by not talking to me at all. My sister recently commented on a YouTube video of me, but won't contact me directly. Go figure.

At our church and residence Terry, an under-employed union worker says one daughter wouldn't talk to him because he lived in a tent at Zuccotti park - but another daughter calls him a hero and a patriot. This dichotomy seems to be everywhere. For every guy who calls you a looser there seem to be more who cheer you on and thank you for the work you're doing. "Support your local occupier" is a feeling I've been hearing.

Personally, I think I'm getting New York at it fullest - better than I would have gotten if I had had a lot of money. I ride the subway, I sell art at 14th street, I see places I never would have seen. I am learning the art of alternative ways. I am reading the plaques on statues (Why is the statue of Carl Schurz in Morningside Park instead of Carl Schurz Park?) - but most importantly, I am learning - and that means I am alive.

The Russians at the Heartland Brewery order the largest shots of Tequila I have ever seen. I have made a little money in the park today and enough to have two beers and watch a little football. It's important to have the little things in life sometimes.

We have a Rabbi as an occupier at our Methodist church. I call him the radical Rabbi. He calls himself 'embattled' referring to the way some press has described him. He may be one of those people who believes his own press. As an occupier, one has to watch that. One girl this morning said she had been called "The most eligible bachelorette" in OWS. And they may be right, but will she adapt to that description and suddenly become a bitch? Stay tuned...

Vampire Squid

At a meeting for the Direct Action group a proposal is made to get $500 for 'squid stuff'. OWS is not poor. The idea is to show up at Goldman Sachs and do something with 'squid stuff' (#Squidding). This is funny as are many of the protest ideas. Wonder what will happen?

Sleeping in a church with 70 other occupiers is also funny. I have said that if I didn't wake up to some disturbance or domestic squabble, I would be suspicious - something would be wrong. Other more quiet discussions outline various people's mental issues. It is generally concurred amongst the group that there any number of people with any number of issues. If you could tell the bi-polars from the multiple personality traits, from the merely depressed occupiers that might be a helpful social skill - but it's difficult. There must be 50 different kinds of psychosis at work at any one time and we don't really have a shrink on staff - so what I do, is simply compare those people and situations to ones I see in daily life. 


There is a 400lb man who inhabits my local Starbucks and sits in front of the 6 station electrical outlet and then complains when people ask him to move to plug in their computers. This is normal. Our mayor has deployed hundreds of police and a minimum 12 vehicles + a telescopic crowd viewing pod to Zuccotti park to monitor what at times could be six protesters. This is normal. At another Starbucks a woman proudly declares that she will be sharing my table (for which there is room for only 1 laptop) and then asks  (no, declares) that I move my laptop so that she can use hers. She is unapologetic and feeling very entitled to this. This is normal.


Whenever I see odd activity, selfish behavior, short tempers, domestic squabbles, finance troubles, thefts, addiction issues, LGBT issues, misguided romances, homelessness or the Peter Principle at work at OWS, I realize that these are exactly the same things I dealt with at advertising agencies (one writer friend of mine slept in his car for a time) or the real world - the difference is that in #OWS these issues are approached openly, whereas in the real world they are buried, masked and ignored.


I've had many, many people say to me over the last few months that they have seen me happy, engaged, challenged and involved in my activities at #OWS. And what I know is that I am homeless no more. "Maybe you have found your calling", I have heard. Maybe I have. 

Homeless 101.9: How I Became Un-homeless

Illustration by Hugh Macleod @ Gapingvoid.com

I simply moved out of the government shelter. And felt an immediate sigh of relief the minute I walked out the door. All of a sudden I had my freedom back, my self respect, my creativity, my energy, my intellect. I had become a man again.(Continued...)

This blog. aHBiNYC is now available as an eBook. It covers the writer's homeless experiences in New York City from September 11, 2011 through January 2013 in 245 pages and 50 chapters. To order simply use the PayPal button in the sidebar, send $10, and include your email address in the PayPal memo form. Thank you.

Homeless 101.5: All in Good Humour

Jack Nicholson

Living in Bellevue, the crazy house - even as a re-purposed homeless shelter, is one thing but letting it drive you crazy is quite another.. So it pays to keep a sense of humour on oneself at all times. Having a good laugh can make a whole crappy day go away. Poof. Gone. And so I use an old Quentin’ Tarantino trick to remember the little things that happen that I might otherwise forget. I had heard once that when asked how he could write prison lingo film dialog that Tarantino said he had been thrown into the drunk tank once, and so he just wrote down everything all his cellmates said. If I wrote down everything my roommates said at Bellevue, I’d never be able to stop writing, so I just write down the memorable stuff. Here’s some:

 “Nah, it’ll just make me feel like a cop”, responds one guy to another on the elevator when asked if he wanted a free donut. 

The Back to Work program is a government program that is supposed to prepare people to re-enter the workforce after unemployment, but what it seems to excel at is in making people wait. For instance, at the subcontractor CEC (Career Educational Consultants) that I attend, after punching in on a clock, people must wait to sign into their class (yes, that's like punching in by hand a second time), this can take an hour or more because the hallway is just jammed – and there really is no class – just a room full of banged up old computers that people who have never used a computer before try to use. And after signing in there, you can sign up again on a clipboard to see your case worker or a job consultant. This could take an hour more, or two. And then there’s the line to get your Metrocard, the card used on buses and subways – a half hour at least. And so the place is always SRO with people waiting. 


Phone rings, lady waiting in the crowd answers and then responds: “I’m at the zoo”, she says. And this oddly, all becomes normal.

“I kissed a white girl in rehab” – Says a guy on 8^th avenue to his buddy as I walk by on the way to the soup kitchen for lunch.

The other day the library gave me a little tiny library card with a hole in it for my keychain. Funny, homeless people don’t have keychains, I thought.

Back at Bellevue a conversation ensues in the room in which the word ‘tomorrow’ was used twice by the same guy – and almost, as if on cue, Marvin and I break into a chorus from the musical Annie, “Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I love ya Tomorrow! You're always A day A way! ”, we sang in unrehearsed unison. It was friggin' hilarious.

"HA, HA, HA, Ha!", bellowed another roomie. "That's Belleview at its finest!".

So the other night at the Occupy camp was 'Kid's Night' - a night in which middle class parents brought their kids down to spend the night in a tent. Now, if that's not funny, I don't know what is. "Lookie Skip", those are hippies over there", said dad. "Just like grampa used to be".

The laughs never end around here. Wonder what Bloomberg had for dinner tonight?

#Occupy Bank of America!

From novelist and blogger John Rachel, a positively brilliant post on our current financial/military mess. I won't do a spoiler here. Just read it.


Bank of America Declares War on the United States!

Bank of America has declared war on our country. The recently announced transfer of $75 trillion in derivatives - much of which consists of toxic assets - has the potential for bankrupting the nation. If the President and his economic team, led by already criminally complicit Tim Geithner, allows this quiet coup d’état against the interests of the American people - of a magnitude that literally puts at risk our survival as a functioning nation, we will know where they really stand. President Obama says he is serious about challenging the corruption of Wall Street and the banksters. 

I have a suggestion. 

I say we redeploy the troops which are allegedly returning from Iraq. How many branches and offices are there in the Bank of America empire? I think 60,000 battle-hardened soldiers would do the trick.

Unoccupy Iraq.

Occupy Bank of America!


Touche’ John. I certainly could not have said it better.

A Homeless Blogger In NYC Occupies Wall Street

Brush with the law

Do I protest the system that both messed me up and partially supports me? One answer: "Yes". It's the only sensible thing to do. The only way to contribute to ending a system that gives back very little to those who support it - those 99% who don't share the wealth of the 1% who control it. I saw a sign at the protest recently  that said, "The System's Not Broken. It Was Built This Way" - and that's a sorry damned comment on the whole mess, because it might be true. And so in whatever hours I can, on nights and weekends, I Occupy Wall Street, along with thousands of others, to effect the change we elected, but didn't get. Unfortunately, the first thing Obama did was bail out the banks - while the rest of America, the tax base, was left hanging. Obama, for whatever we thought we bought, sold us out. And that's sad again because I supported him, as did much of the world.

McLuhan lives!

And so I paint. In my teens I taught myself to paint signs, because I loved typography and eventually ended up working as a professional sign painter to pay for college. It was a good job, much better for me than working at Mickey D's, and the solitude of the work was always peaceful for me. It is again. I haven't lettered in 35 years. I had forgotten the meditation it provided - to think of something, to design it in my head, and then to put it to surface. The end result is never the work itself. It's the reaction it gets from others. And that feeds both the artist and the viewer. Lovely. The work is all freehand and done from a scratchy ball pen thumbnail. Making it bigger is the actual art. The sign you see says, "The Medium Is Our Message". It is paraphrased from a Marshall McLuhan expression. In this case, I meant it to describe what the demonstration in Zuccotti park is all about. About the idea of expressing ideas by assembling, and creating mass communication (The business I ended up in.). The medium is the gathering and the signs and the message is simply whatever people take from it. Not a list of demands, not a manifesto, not a protest - but a gathering together to exercise the rights of our first amendment. That's the message.

If the painting looks better at the start than it does at the finish, that's because it was painted three times. Once on Friday evening. Then again on Saturday, because the tempera paint was washed away by the rain overnight. Then again on Sunday, because it was washed away a second time. Finally on Sunday, I switched to acrylic paint that could survive the rain. For that, I had to use colours that were less brilliant, but stable after drying. It went from graphic design to street art for all the repaints, and somehow, it works that way. Maybe I could get a job being a signpainter again - if this homeless writer thing doesn't work out :)

Homeless 101.1: Is Homelessness a Crime in America?

Homeless America

At the 30th Street Men's Shelter in Manhattan one would certainly think so as truly homeless people are treated just like and along with criminals of a number of varieties. At the corner of the building hangs a sign pointing to the entrance. "Intake and Vagrancy Control", it reads. Upon entering all items must be removed from pockets, belts and watches removed and put in trays for x-ray. Then the 'clients' (as residents are duplicitously called) pass through a metal detector and are whisked with a wand if anything beeps. A combination of DHS (Department of Homeless Services) Police and rent-a cops patrol every inch of the place and one is never out of the view of security at any time, except when in a bunk room - but the bunk rooms have not locks or latches. "You watch your shit here, boy", said a guard to me. "We've got crooks and scammers and pimps and drug runners and more in here. You watch your shit all the time", he said in regard to anything I might be carrying. It applies to your behaviour as well. (Continued...)

This blog. aHBiNYC is now available as an eBook. It covers the writer's homeless experiences in New York City from September 11, 2011 through January 2013 in 245 pages and 50 chapters. To order simply use the PayPal button in the sidebar, send $10, and include your email address in the PayPal memo form. Thank you.