Ranger Rick Next Door

I was sleeping peacefully last night in Central Park when I was woken by a rustling in the bushes not one foot from my head.  My body kicked into action before my mind did, and before I knew what was going on I was standing upright, still mummified in my sleeping bag, with a stick in hand to defend myself (although the stick was still attached to the tree.)  As my eyes adjusted I saw what I was up against: a monstrous, fierce little raccoon.  All the stories of how effective raccoon attacks can be came to my mind.  It was after my left over Olive Garden, and it was not afraid of me.  But after some swinging the branch around it scampered up the tree next to my camping spot.  

I laid back down, staring up at the raccoon who was staring down at me.  As I settled down I realized how cute it was, and it brought to mind a magazine I used to read as a kid about a raccoon named Ranger Rick, who talks about how his home is nature and how humans are slowly taking away his home by building more and more.   I thought about how this Ranger Rick had never known what untouched wilderness was like.  

I moved the Olive Garden to a hidden spot aways away, and when Rick came back down he went straight for the spot, I underestimated his intelligence.  Then he dragged the bread sticks into the bush next to me.  That's when I realized I've been sharing a home with a raccoon for a week.  I regretted not being more cordial.  Next time I'll invite him over for dinner.  

But it became apparent that I would not need to invite him, as later that night I felt his pointy little feet crawling up my sleeping bag, one cold paw hit my bare leg where I had the vent open.  Then he rested on my hip.  I don't know if he knew what giant he was resting on, but I took the moment to feel the connection, the closeness.  And when I shifted my head, he waddled into the night.

As much as I've grown to love aspects of New York-the people, the energy, the culture, the history, the diversity-I cannot stay here now.  I crave openness: environmentally, interpersonally and internally.  I crave accessibility, both of land and of people.  Soon I will have different stories to tell.  

Doubt, Hope, and Revolution

Today I found myself feeling like a small, ignorant, idealistic fish in a big ocean.  A little discouraged.  Maybe I have too much hope, and maybe I trust too much...believing in the goodness in every person.  When I tell people what I have been doing, the usual reaction is to wince and tell me to be careful, to warn me of the certain danger.  But at the same time there is jealousy, "I wish I could do what you're doing!"  "You can!" I always say.  When I tell them of my ideas, many times people tell me that has already been tried, or that wouldn't work, followed by a story of a cousin they have who had something tragic happen to them.  I see a lot of fear.  But maybe we have a false view of the way things are, blowing the bad out of proportion.

I love Steve Fugate, who spends most his days walking across America, he calls it the Love Life campaign, and tells about it in his blog.  Right now, the 67-year-old is currently crossing the nation on foot for the seventh time.  He says, "Life is not what these newscasters have grabbed from all over the world to scare the living crap out of you.  This campaign is a way for me to show people the random acts of kindness that happen to me on a daily basis, sometimes numerous in one day."  He refers to trail therapy, when he describes the blessings that he gets from everyone he meets while he's on the road.  I get that.  It's like, by moving outside of one bubble, where you have the same job and interact with the same niche, you are able to bounce into multiple bubbles every day.  You realize how big and diverse the world is.  How there are so many different perspectives, and how there is goodness everywhere.   I like how Abraham Lincoln put it: "I don't like that man, I must get to know him better."  I feel that most misunderstanding, hate and judgement would disappear if people were willing to let the walls of the bubble disappear and truly see.

Back to the New York homeless...I really think there could be a way to funnel all the good food that is thrown away everyday to the organizations and churches who distribute food to those who need it.  That seems so logical and easy.  People point out the many health codes, and laws, and logistical problems.  

I guess I'm on one side of the spectrum, but I'm seeing how it's possible that most people end up on the other, and settle down in a house whose walls separate them from the rest of the world, and lose sight of what is happening on a bigger scale.  That is easier, more secure.  (No, I'm not against living in homes ;) ) In many ways the world seems to be super-glued the way it is.  And even though most people recognize that it isn't ideal, we don't see how anything we do could make a difference.

I like to think back to times before I walked the earth when things were different...worse...and to look at the people who had a vision to look beyond the way things were and talk about it, to cause enough momentum to change the state of the human race.  Classic example: MLKJ,  It does take vision, and the reason they were revolutionaries was that they had hope in an ideal that the rest of the world didn't.  And they maintained that hope, they didn't let the fact that they were the only ones stop them from moving forward.  I have a feeling that if we flipped what we focused on as a people-highlighting the love that exists like we focus on the hate now-I think that, instead of 9 out of 10 people believing that war and fighting will never end, 9 out of 10 people would begin to believe that we are headed toward peace and heaven on earth.

I'll end with something Martin Luther King Jr. said: "I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality... I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word."

Cheers,

Be Well.

Homeless Ambition

This story picks up where the other left off.

As I walked North on Park Ave. at 2 AM yesterday morning, black garbage bags of trash were coming out of the shops in hoards.  When I saw the restaurants doing this, it got me thinking.  Maybe I could reduce some of the waist, and at the same time save money and fill my stomach.   In a grocery store I saw a worker tying up two bags.   I made my way in.  "Is this food?"  "Yes."  "Are you going to throw it away?"  "Well we are going to put it in a room."  "Then what?"  "Then I think it goes to the dump."  Busted.  I asked if I could take the food, and she went to go get her manager who said that it's not allowed, but he would go put it outside, then a few minutes later I could go grab them so it was off the camera.  I thanked him.  The bags each weighed 30 pounds, but I didn't care, I just hit the jackpot!   And I had a plan.

After I woke up, I stashed the bags in the bushes while I went to town.  When I came back the squirrel lady was there with her peanuts, hooping and whistling.  I felt like it would destroy her world if I hopped the fence and grabbed the bags, so I waited until she left.  They were filled with soups, and pastas, and salads.  I downed a butternut squash soup and took to the city.

Since I've been in New York I've seen many homeless lying on the sidewalks (including a few older women.) I did some research and learned that in New York "in 2013, there [was] an all-time record 53,270 homeless people, including 12,701 homeless families with 22,625 homeless children." (coalitionforthehomeless.org)  So I decided to carry the food around and meet some of them.  Soon, I realized my arms could not sustain carrying these bags, so I went into CVS pharmacy and asked the clerk if I could borrow a cart with wheels.  She called the manager, I told him my idea, and that I could leave my wallet or a license.  He didn't hesitate to say yes.

So imagine a tall white kid walking down the street with a big backpack and a little red cart with tiny black wheels that would get stuck in ruts trailing behind him filled with garbage bags.  I couldn't help but laugh when I saw my reflection.

I saw a man with a cart, apparently, homeless dusting off a car, so I went to him and asked, "sir, are you hungry?  I've got a bunch of food here."  He said, "I'm good."  I asked him if he knew where I could find people that would want food.  He flared up, "I SAID, I'M GOOD!"  "I'm really glad you're good," I said as I walked away.  I understood why he could be insulted, a suggestion that he doesnt have the capability of taking care of himself.  "Am I just going to be insulting everyone I interact with today?" I thought.  I decided that even if it was a complete bust it would be worth the time, because how else would I learn what the reality of the situation is?  Looking across the street, I could see a few CVS clerks clustered, and pointing out the window.  I laughed and gave them a big thumbs up.

A few blocks down I saw a store owner talking to a slouched man sitting in front of his shop.  It appeared the he was trying to get rid of the man.  But he was seemed too unaware of what happening to comprehend the demand.  After the shop owner left I came over to him and squatted.  He was trying to role a cigarette with a small pinch of tobacco.  "What's you're name?"  "Maaw," he mumbled.  When I asked him if he wanted food he muttered something that I took for a yes, so I handed him some mashed potatoes and corn.  His eyes lit up, and he handed me the haphazard cigarette to show his gratitude.  "I don't smoke, but thanks. Can I take a picture with you?"  He nodded.

I walked for an hour before I found another homeless person.  He didn't look destitute, but he was digging through a dumpster.  He said his name was Spike.  He was excited when I asked him if he wanted food, and he took six dishes.  There was such sorrow in his eyes.  I wonder how his experience of reality is.  Has he experienced happiness?

(Then I happened upon the studio of a legend.)

The next man I asked was different, he had a sparkle in his eye.  He seemed more aware of the world around him.  After I left, I had an urge to go back and ask him what his life is like.  I stood there for a minute analyzing the situation in my mind before I went back and said, "I'm curious what you're life is like."  "Oh, life is good! God is good," he said.  "You seem happy."  He replied, "I am happy......I've learned that happiness is what you make it."  He continued, "You know, I get these visions, and when I follow through with them good things happen."  I meant to revisit this idea, but forgot as he told me about his life, how he used to have a house and a wife, but 5 years ago he lost everything.  "I don't blame anyone else, I've learned you have to take responsibility if you want to make things better, and I know how to make things better."  He told me that anyone can get out of the homeless position if they want.  The problem is that people are chasing the wrong thing.  They spend all day chasing food and clothes.  It's smarter to chase money that you can spend to buy food, then you can have a beer and a cigarette in the evening instead of continuing to chase food and clothes.  He was a positive guy to be around, a light countenance.  We hugged and said goodbye.

After passing out food to 4 or 5 more people, it started to rain.  At this point I was in Times Square, I passed a man that asked me for a donation to help feed the homeless.  He went through his shpeel, then I told him I'd fed about ten today.  "You're a good man," he said.  "If you want to drop the rest off at the Times Square church, they'll take it."  The interaction I had at the church was the coldest interaction of the day.  The guy obviously didn't want to talk to me, or take my food.  So I left.

As I left I saw a guy a few years younger than me with a nice afro asking for money.  I stopped and gave him some food.  He was really touched, and said smiling, "man, I remember like a year ago a man came by and gave me some food."  A year ago?  I sat next to him.  He told me his name was Jazz, and that he has big ambition, that's why he ends up on the streets sometimes because he risks a lot.  I asked him what his ambition was, and he said rapping.  "You wanna hear some?"  He said, eyes sparkling.  "Of course!"  He started free styling about how he was sitting there, why he was there, and about how I came to give him some food.  I wanted to film, and he was stoked about that.  Here's Jazz.  I love the end.

What a day.

This still isn't the introduction to my blog, but it is the 4th post.  Welcome.

Mystery Man

I brought the rain into Starbucks with me, dripping off me like a waterfall, puddle on the ground.  As much as I don't like the idea of corporationization (help me out with the right word) I do reap the benefits.  Shelter from the rain, free wifi, rombus tea, good music, not to mention that Starbucks is the only place in the city to relieve the urinary system.  I am grateful every time, and torn.

Ok, I've got two stories in the making, I will introduce them both in separate posts.

The first one revolves around a mysterious man I met last night.

After eating a very authentic Korean meal in Korea town, complete with whole minnows, and bibimbap, Kate and I walked to Madison square park to take advantage of the warm night.  We observed the people walking by and connected with the ones with dogs who weren't afraid of the fact that we were strangers.

We sat on a bench at the bottom right of this shot.  Around midnight a puggle wiggled up to us.   His owner, a middle aged man with mid-length, straight hair smiled.  He had dark skin, and he had a warm presence.  His name was Tony.  Kate asked the dog's name, he paused, almost sheepishly and then said Enrique.  "It fits him," said Kate.  " Does it?"  he seemed relieved.  "I named him after Enrique Iglesias.  I'm actually his voice coach."  My mind jumped to the next gear.  Enrique Iglesias's voice teacher just stopped to talk to me?  That was just the beginning.  As we spurred him on with questions he got into his story.  He started telling us about his relationship with Enrique.  How Enrique just bought a new multi-million dollar mansion with eight gardeners and a bowling ally.  Tony said he pressed him on this decision.  "Why do you need all of this?"  "It's an investment," Iglesias responded.  Tony went on to tell us that Justin Bieber just committed to train with him three times a year to improve his voice.  He told us how his best friend is Cristina Aguilera.  He told us how he got into Juilliard because of Mariah Carey's mom, who coached both of them.   The story kept going, more and more names.  "The interesting thing about Madonna is that she is shy when you get in a one-on-one."  He told us how he grew up with Tommy Hilfiger.   At this point I was starting to get skeptical.  If this guy is who he says he is, how are we talking to him in Madison Square?  But he didn't seem deranged.  He seemed put together, and his story was so in depth. It was pretty good acting if that's what it was.  As Enrique mounted Tony's leg, Tony told us that he has gotten 5 guys modeling jobs at big agencies, he said he has an eye for it, and he told me that I have the face and build for it.  If I was two inches shorter it would be more ideal, but he gave me the name of a few agencies to check out.  "If they take a snap shot of you, it means their interested.  You won't even need to tell them why you're there, they'll know."

He started talking philosophy of life, saying that all these successful people he knows got there because they picked a coarse that they wanted and they didn't waver.  They believed in themselves.  Eventually the right connections and circumstances will arise.  It was obvious he cared about helping people choose their path in life.  And regardless of wether or not it was a hoax, I was inspired by the time he left.  When he did leave, I looked at Kate and said, "was that real?"  We both started laughing real hard.  It was 2 o'clock in the morning, the park was closing.  We vowed to get to the bottom of this, to figure out wether he was who he said he was.  He gave us plenty of material to begin our detective work.

As I walked back to Central Park through Grand Central station I thought of my plan of attack for the next day.  But something happened that changed the cards...

Central in Central Park

I’m sitting on a bench in Central Park. The sun is shining newly after a cold winter and people are happy. There is a group of elderly volunteers in green shirts raking leaves in the field across from me. A saxophone player just started grooving next to me, so smooth, my mind and soul dance with the notes.  A child stands in front of him, mesmerized.  Even the birds are chirping their joy. Two flashes of red darted from one tree to the other, I thought I was hallucinating. Cardinals are a marvelous novelty to my west coast eyes.  Two women just walked by with 14 dogs on short leashes.  Every other couple is speaking a different language.  I am content sitting on this park bench.  A fixture of the park itself, I sit still as the world moves around me.  There is no difference between the way things are and the way I want things to be.

In the middle of the park, a string bass and a man with a glorious voice resonate in this walkway, the acoustics are amazing.

New to New York

Sunday, March 9, 2014

First day in New York….so good!  

I could not resist Barnes and Noble, I read part of The Last American Man (highly recommend it,) and when I put the book down a voice from behind me asked, “you traveling?”  “What gave it away?” I said with a wink as I turned around.  A good looking, weathered man stood in front of me, short and in his sixties.  He shrugged with a smile and pointed to my Osprey backpack with a tent poking out the top.  “Let me buy you dinner, I know how it is to be a traveler,” he said.  Wow, my stomach jumped for joy inside me…I wasn’t planning on eating dinner.  As we chatted over soup, I learned that Sam had immigrated from Poland when he was 20.  He has hiked or bicycled across 43 states.  He met his Chilean wife at Cabo when they were both on vacation, and they go down twice a year to stay in their house in Chile.  A couple years ago he had a bush pilot drop him and a friend off deep in the Northern Territories of Canada, they brought no food, just guns, and planned to live off what they caught.  The first two days were unsuccessful, but after the third day they got the hang of it and ate well.  Sam listened to my Alaska adventure as if I were telling him about going to Central Zoo.  But there were no cages between me and the grizzly bear!  This was a man who understood me, and we were kindred spirits in many ways.  After the meal I expressed my gratitude and said it was amazing to meet him.  He replied, “well, it wasn’t amazing, but maybe now I found a sailing instructor if you come around in the summer.” (His wife bought him a kayak that turns into a sailboat.)  That last comment made me laugh as he walked away.  

A few minutes later I caught the eyes of a girl my age a few times, and the third time we both smiled, so I decided to go over and talk to her.  Kate has liquid blue eyes, and a sunshine smile. She grew up in Iowa, and has lived here for a year.  She works trying to connect non-profits with the famous and the rich to help lobby for their causes in Washington.  She has some amazing stories of some New York legends that she knows.  We’re going to meet up tomorrow and explore New York like locals.   

I was happy as I walked north on broadway, talking on the phone to some good friends.

I am now writing from my sleeping bag, on top of pine boughs, up a small ridge from a walkway in Central Park. I can hear a small waterfall nearby. I'm watching raccoons and possums and giant rats and squirrels and cats scurry back and forth on top of a frozen pond. Such diversity of mammals in a city! I am grateful for them. They connect me to something bigger that is beyond these cement walls and asphalt carpets.  Above me, through the tree branches the lights of the skyline are visually appealing and temporarily distract me from my deeper feelings toward them.  I'm actually hot in the 32 degree weather, I'm shedding layers.  Thank you acclimatization and Toronto’s fierce weather that I experienced for a month.  Tomorrow doesn't exist, all there is today. I think I'm living closer to that truth.  I don't have any plans.  And I am happy, I'm smiling from the inside.   

This isn’t the intro to my blog, but it’s the first post.  Welcome.