Profound Disappointment, aka Funk

Coming off a wonderful vacation (except for the last morning when a terrible truck collision occurred right at our campground, causing 1 fatality and several serious injuries), I was happy. 

I even was happy after speaking at Cardinal Gibbons HS in Ft. Lauderdale, where I had graduated almost 50 years (gulp!) previously. And I maintained my balanced and peaceful state of mind despite having to buy 2 new tires and get TillieToo TheTurtle’s alignment fixed--again--another story.

What set me off, gradually, was my pal Pat LaMarche’s post about her funk. It’s contagious, I guess:

so i spent the better part of my week off with Chad, relaxing and except for a little work via email and phone, letting my mind wander. yesterday, when our little five day run-away-from-home ended, chad asked me if i was happy.

i told him that i have a wonderful life and i'm the most fortunate person i know, but at times i'm profoundly sad. the difference between my life and the lives of the people i work with is such a stark one, it's hard to be as happy as i should be.

i grieve daily for one tragedy or another. and i stare at them all the time at work, and think of them when i'm not working.

my buddist therapist of yore would have told me to shed the sadness, it's not every enlightened of me. oh anurag, i miss talking to you. i guess i'll go buy his book. http://www.rebelsatoripress.com/awakening-anurag-shantam/

Well, that just added to my discontent. I had been driving around the richest county in Florida, Palm Beach. I bounced between ultra-rich and ultra-poor. I shook my head at the Martin Luther King Jr. memorial where homeless people slept under “his” gaze. 

I drove along the famed A1A, by estates hidden by hedges and fences. I bristled at the mega mansions and high-end high-rises that blocked my view of the ocean. 

I wove through narrow streets on the other side of the tracks that reflected the polar opposite of the beach drive. I saw despair on the faces of workers waiting for the bus. I saw exhausted defiance in the eyes of those holding signs on the street corner across from Trump’s colossal establishment.

The clincher, though, was going to Our Lord’s Place UMC. John, the director of St. Ann’s Place, suggested I stop by OLP because they were holding their homelessness Sleep Out. I’d suspect this church is one of the wealthiest UMC I’ve seen. 

And they’re into this event. I wandered around, noticing that they at least seemed to have invited a few homeless adults. But the event had the feeling of a carnival on steroids. Card tricks, entertainment, auction...all the things that will raise money. And I suspect the money will be well used. But...

But this county has no emergency shelter. So, weather being what it is, other perils being what they are, hundreds? thousands? of homeless people have no place to sleep in one of the wealthiest counties in America. 

It’s not tricky to explain my funk. It reflects Pat’s. My life is wonderful. Comfortable. And I know so many more who have nothing. 

I’m grateful for those who do what they can do to alleviate the sufferings of kids and adults without homes. I just wish the contrast wasn’t skyrocketing so much. 

And that those who have so much would join those of us who are trying to ease the abject discomfort of homelessness. And that Congress would buy a clue and get HUD to revamp their policies...and...yeah...funk.

Weird, Wonderful Disconnect

Internet, ubiquitous, except when it’s not. 

Little Tillie2 (rt)

After a hectic surge of preparing to disconnect from Tillie, my home-motorhome of 9 years, anticipating with some anxiety the acquisition of TillieToo, my new motorhome of smaller dimensions, and preparing for 2 talks and delivering 1 (one sabotaged by weather travel reality), I was ready for a new normal. 

Instead, I landed in a place where I’ll have very limited internet for a week, at a time I think I need it most.

My anxiety when not able to access internet in my travels has been off the charts. Now I don’t have phone or internet. 

The offsetting factor, being with a friend and her sister and their dogs in a peaceful, beautiful haven in the New Mexico mountains. 

Internet access is possible, but requires deliberate action as opposed to grabbing a device and hopping into the swirl.

My only news is what I absorb from the frenzied flow of TV news that gets turned on once in a while. My dismay at the choice of stories is only matched by listening to the blaring TV political ads and the warning-ladened pharmaceutical ads.

My world is different for a week, a change of pace that makes me appreciate what I take for granted. It’s hard, as hard as these kind of things can be in the scope of real world crises. I catch myself thinking more. Not sure if that’s a good thing, but it’s what we’re created to do. 

My friend commented about her fear that we will soon hit the wall when the techno-gurus run out of answers and solutions for the swarms of tech terrorism that seems to be out of control. I wish I could present a counter argument. 

In the meantime, I’ll clean my hard drive, a task that doesn’t happen when I’m so easily distracted by realtime online action. I’ll make time for hikes and talking with people. I’ll tweak the crammed storage in Tillie2, preparing for my first travel companion, Pat LaMarche, on our ambitious Babes of Wrath trip to Montana, Homeless On the Range. 

Life, ubiquitous, when you let it be.  

Lying or Clueless? Whatever. Hurtful. Minority.

Caricature by Mary Ann Parks

I'm basically a transparent person. I will go out of my way to tell the truth. I value truth and trust.

That's why I get quite frustrated with the likes of Sheriff Joe Arpaio in Maricopa County, AZ, the infamous pink-underwear, tent city, and a host of other tricks of his lawman image-making persona.

My dear friend and stalwart Babes of Wrath travel partner, Pat LaMarche, amazingly arranged an interview with Sheriff Joe while we were on our recent trip out west. Here's the link to her post, the transcripts and my 2-min video-visit of his office. These will give you some inside insights.

One thing that flabbergasted both of us was the Sheriff's total denial of his awareness of homeless kids in his county. "Homeless children?" he asked, astounded. He even sounded a tad concerned. Welp, that was short lived when we found out that he indeed did know about the homeless kids in the Phoenix area...he had attended several fundraisers for area shelters.

Diane and Pat

I suppose I shouldn't expect so much--honesty, decency, etc.--from our elected officials. After all, they're elected...often times by voters who fall for deceptive, persuasive advertising, and who pay little attention to the behind-the-scenes hooligans. But I do expect it.

Fortunately, albeit quite hidden, we have hosts of counter-forces out here too. Good people doing good things. I was reminded of this every day when I thought about Pat's willingness to spend 5 weeks chasing poverty stories while living in cramped, spartan conditions with me in Tillie. I'm used to traveling alone, beating my head against walls alone. It was wonderful to have her along.

We encountered scads of warm-hearted, compassionate people who daily go above-and-beyond to comfort the afflicted. Although both Pat and I try to share some of these stories, (Pat's blogs, my blogs) it's impossible to counteract the surge of media blasts about the abundant Sheriff Joe-type characters fluttering around like snow in a blizzard.

Most delightful, we encountered scads of people experiencing homelessness who inspired the socks off us by their efforts to strive, not just survive, the dire circumstances thrown at them.

Which got me thinking...how do we let the tables be turned upside down--where the good people are overpowered by the bullies and ne'er-do-wells from the, um, other side? What can mostly powerless folks do? Well, let me give one relatively simple, cost-free, suggestion:

When you read a blog post, Facebook comment/post, or news story about poverty/homelessness, take a moment to LIKE, COMMENT and/or SHARE. Top dogs determine what stories are important using a complicated system, I'm sure. Part of it is based on LIKES, SHARES, COMMENTS. So...if you can manage a moment to register on the cyberspace toll board, you'll be lending our cause a hand.

My organization, HEAR US Inc., pushes the idea of a compassion epidemic. It's not a unique concept, but this simple, doable approach is sometimes overlooked in the frenzy of crisis and chaos. Do we have confidence that good will triumph over evil? Then...why don't we push the good envelope even harder.

Stand in the face of the evil-doers and say NO. You don't win, bully. The Babes of Wrath will get you!

Bone Chilling Reminder

We're soft. I'm soft anyhow. I'm a creature-comfort-lovin' gal. So when it gets chilly in Tillie...

Now I really can't complain. In addition to the countless children, teens, women and men on the streets of our fine country without homes prior to Hurricane Sandy, many more folks are learning the hard way how it is to be chilled to the bone.

Electricity still stymied by dangling wires. Furnaces slimed with salt and silt grime. And progress too slow to beat the path of the nor'easter heading in Sandy's footsteps. It's ugly.

For proof of ugliness--the kind most of us have to acknowledge owning at least a part of--the tragic story of a mother whose 2 toddlers slipped out of her storm-wearied arms in New York this past week. Turned away as she begged for help, maybe because her dark skin fired up fear, her boys were washed away forever. Inexcusably.

The bone-chilling cold has settled in over the northern part of the country, showing no mercy for those without electricity after the storm. Well, lest we forget, far too many don't have heat in their homes thanks to the economic storms that have battered those with limited resources.

One noble effort to call attention to this atrocity is heating up in Bangor, ME, the freezy-ass capital of the U.S. Right outside Stephen King's radio station (yes, THAT SK!), my dear friend Pat LaMarche is freezing, intentionally, living this week in what is playfully dubbed the "Hobbit House," a doghouse-like structure that lacks a whole lot as far as protection from the cold.

She's raising money and, more importantly, attention for the issue of heating inequity. It boils down to millions of babies, toddlers, children, teens, parents and senior citizens unable to stay warm. Too expensive. Houses too riddled with poverty-induced gaps that allow cold air in and heat out. Households that go up in smoke when dangerous practices are employed to stay warm.

In every community, someone--besides homeless families--suffers from cold at some point. Those whose houses were whomped by Sandy can often be heard whining about their discomfort. It takes a whole lot of self-control (which I'm about to lose here) to not harshly remind them that people suffer lots worse every day. They do.

If the cold can cause us to huddle together and warm our hearts, then bring on an Arctic blast. Just make sure that I'm out of the path of the north winds. Tillie doesn't like cold.

To help the Pat LaMarche's gallant efforts, here's the link for donations. Do it. It will warm your cold heart, and will touch lives whose existence seems more than a little bleak. 

Heart-Warming Effort to Battle Ferocious Freezing

After 7 days of no electric hook-ups, I'd (almost) kill for one.With the cold (temps dropping to 20s) spell coming my way, I was quite happy that the OH state park I aimed at was open this late in the year. Electricity. Yay!

My discomfort without the electrical connection is relatively minor. I have Genny, the push-of-a-button generator (read about high end generators!) that provides what I need. Aside from the obvious environmental drawback, it rumbles loudly under my bed when I kick it on in the early morning, disturbing my last hour or so of sleep. I use Genny minimally, but I'm a big wuss when it comes to being cold, so I endure the noise and guilt for the heat. (photo from 11/10 in Denver at the NAEHCY conference)

Warmth is harder for some people to come by, especially those whose resources teeter on non-existent. As Old Man Winter descends upon us, millions of low-income Americans shiver, no, make that suffer. They just can't afford heat. Or they make dreadful decisions to get heat--skip medications, cut back on food, or worse, use dangerous heating alternatives. Paltry government weatherization programs barely patch the needs of holey households.

30 Year LIHEAP Funding History

For the past 30 years, government funds help income-eligible households pay some sky-high bills (a nice subsidy to utilities). LIHEAP, Low Income Home Energy Assistance Program, scatters approximately $5 billion across the country although not everyone who needs it gets LIHEAP, and piles of red tape are included. Learn more about LIHEAP

Under the guise of hard times, our government claims it can't afford to continue funding this program at previous (inadequate) levels--when more people need help. The President and Congress planned to slash funding by more than half to a frightening $2.57 billion. Some folks will freeze. Others will die. The combination of poverty and winter is deadly. Read the US Fire Marshall's daily residential fire fatality report if you doubt me.

A couple years ago I delved into the behind-the-scenes story of 3 women and 6 young children who died in what was the "worst fatal fire to strike Mississippi." While their deaths weren't attributed to faulty heating, I discovered hard times, aka poverty, at the core. I began reading the fire fatalities report until it became too overwhelming.

Up in the great state of Maine, winter's playground if you can afford to stay warm, thousands of households will endure months of brutal cold thanks to the ongoing "generosity" of poor people who (unwillingly) help government balance its budget.

Not if Super-Mainers Stephen and Tabitha King have anything to do with it! Yes, SK of horror novel fame, and his wife, Bangor residents and owners of the delightfully liberal talk radio station WZON. 

Pat LaMarche, my good friend and co-host of WZON's  Pulse Morning Show with Don Cookson, is moving into that little blip of a structure at the end of their "fancy" radio station building (photo, right) during the week of Thanksgiving as a gimmick to raise money for freezing Mainers.

Before she can come out, she has to collect $70,000 worth of pledges that the Kings will match! All money will be distributed to cash-strapped Maine residents for heating bills. And, publicity maven that LaMarche is, she'll likely push this issue all the way to Congress, where it can easily be fixed by compassionate budgeteers.

A bipartisan letter is being circulated by Senators concerned about the well-being of their constituents. Urge your US Senator to sign this letter that calls for funding LIHEAP at last year's $5.1 billion level. (Click this link and go to the "Find Your Senators" link on the top right of the page.)

When all is said and done, I'll put my money on Pat and the Kings. They've already warmed my chilly heart with their willingness to help.