Shutting down? Maybe for a while.

I made this little police car light with a tiny Christmas bulb I dug out of the dumpster...
I'm Code 3 baby...so watch out!! I may be on  my way to jail as you read this.  :(

I'm going to meet with my Probation Officer today @ 2pm. She's all pissed off because I'm not in a rehab place. I beliive that today she's going to revoke my probation and send me to jail where I'll sit for 10 to 14 days to await a hearing. Since this will be my 4th violation, by law I'll be sentenced to state prison because I've spent so much time already in county jail.  I can't perform the goddamn court order because there are no beds available in the rehab places. And despite that I've been on waiting lists and that I call these places every day since December 13, 2012, my Probation Officer is PISSED OFF AT ME

 If I do go to jail today you'll know it if I haven't posted another update by tomorrrow.
 Wish me luck.

Voila! 
I made it back after meeting with my PO!!!
Yipppee!! No county jail for me tonight...
no 1.5" thick foam pad to sleep on...no breakfast tray @ 4:30am for me tomorrow...no jailhouse politics and racial segregation to conform to...no rules about how to use the toilet

and sink...no need to start walking with a limp and grabbing/ touching my genitals while I'm talking as everyone does in jail so they look like thug/gangsters.

Have I mentioned to you that I HATE FUCKING JAIL.. 
But what's weird is that when I go downtown I do enjoy shooting photos of SD County Jail.
I think its because I have a strong sensitivity and value for my ability to stand outside the building
rather than be stuck inside that place...

Just walking past this place conjures up all sorts of scenes, sounds and smells inside my head.
I hate the place...

Its amazing to me that there are men and women (Sheriff's Deputies) who actually get dressed and drive themselves there (as opposed to being dragged in against their will by SDPD) to serve county jail time (usually 12 hrs /sentence) but they get paid good money to do their time. From what I've seen myself, they have jailhouse politics just like the inmates do but when they fight/squabble its never a loud bloody violent insane riot but rather its quiet passive transparent and invisible to the average inmate. Like the time I overheard a Corporal Deputy and a rookie Deputy chatting outside the holding cell  I was in and they were talking bad stuff about the cute female deputy who was finishing her shift. I think they were plotting to punish her by making her do 1000 push ups, take away her day room TV soap operas  or  perhaps make her sweep/mop the entire second floor for a month because she violated/disrespected  the "deputy-wood jailhouse rules" when she gave me an extra sack lunch while I was waiting to see the doctor. That's straight up politics like what inmates have.

But considering that those deputies come and go from that place as if its a regular "job"its amazing to me that most of them have their senses in tact and some are even friendly. I'm reluctant to say it, but just as I have a good rapport with most of the SDPD, whom I've dealt with, its the same thing with these Deputies whenever I go to jail. I don't wanna paint myself as a habitual jail inmate like "Otis" the town drunk on the old Andy Griffith Show, but several of these deputies know me from my "visits to their workplace" and so they greet me with big smiles when I walk in.There are two deputies in particular whom live in the area and I've gotten aquianted with them somewhat whenI see them on the street and I've met  their wives and kids etc. That's nice and very uncommon.

I'm sure that my wit and adorability light up their dreary workplace when I'm there but have I mentioned...I hate jail.

When you ride through that massive steel gate withe sheriff's star on it that opens up while you're sitting in the backseat of the cop car, you think to yourself-- its gonna be 16 to 22 hours from now before you'll be booked in and be able to lie down in your bunk and sleep. The booking process is torture because you're transferred from holding cell to holding cell (about 7 or 8 cells in all) along with 20 or so other inmates who are all in various states of hostility, injury/pain/sickness, insanity and personal hygiene.

 Except for murderers, pedophiles, transsexuals, flaming gay guys and drunks arrested for public intoxication, you're processed with a blue wristband along with (other) criminals of every conceivable kind...DUI offenders,wife beaters/domestic violence,shop lifters, assault & battery offenders, attempted murderers, bank robbers, car thieves, drug dealers, arsonists, vandals, animal killers/abusers, credit card/identidy frauds and other probation violators, like me, who are there because I'm on a waiting list for rehab!! (As I mentioned, I've had my probation revoked three times before because of this same issue.)

Each 'fish tank' (that's what the jailhouse deputies call the holding cells because they're constructed from shatter proof glass so that the Jailers and cameras can see all the inmates and see what they're up to while they get booked into jail.) has its own stainless steel toilet with a built-in wash basin/drinking fountain. This is one ingenious work of human factors engineering like no other.

There's something sinister and yet profoundlylogical and efficient about putting a drinking nozzle directly above the rim of a toilet. But these are jailhouse toilets and they're prone to overflowing and clogging up.  Enough about that.

As you can imagine when angry/frustrated men are packed into a filthy contrete room, fights break out regularly during booking. Some start between members of rival gangs but more often they start for reasons that just blow you away: like someone looking at someone crooked or someone thought he overheard someone else say something bad about the Chargers (really!??) or similar brainless bullshit. That's what makes jail so terrifying--you cannot under estimate the degree of brain damaged, drug induced, evil minded, uncultured, uncivilized behavior that goes on all around you in there.

 One minute you may be having a friendly coherent chat with some guy and the next minute he may be trying to stomp your skull into the floor because you may have gone to the same high school as his ex-wife's older brother in law who still owes him money from back during the Clinton Admin!!!
Insanity rules.

If I had the choice of course I'd take a rehab place anytime over jail although rehab is more similar to jail than any place else you can imagine.

REHAB...What's it good for? Lemme show you.

There's a long and pathetic drawn out saga going on inmy life that I'm not gonma delve into right now it involves me trying to get into a rehab place. My feeling is that these places are good and effective for those who need them. But when the courts and the dept. of probation make it their sworn duty to try and fix the lives of hobos, their menu of options and resources doesn't always yield the precise solution to address the situation. In my case, a court order for me to go and live in some county funded rehab place so far is proving to be improbable because there aren't any beds available for hobos.

In the mean time I've been to a residential detox program  twice and after each two week stay there I
went for a couple of weeks without drinking any beer or  anything else. I've been flat out rejected from a couple of rehab places because they said that my 1 to 2 cans of 24oz. of beer per day is not what they consider to be a "drinking problem". At the detox place they said I don't need a rehab program- what I need is a good lawyer to get my probation/court order modified.

But I'm not here to piss and moan about the problems with rehabs nor to proclaim my sobriety and
superior state of wellness and sound health. I actually want to do some PR in support of rehabs because I'm here to tell ya that if you go to rehab and cannot find your higher power and cannot bring yourself to surrendor and admit that you are powerless and your life is unmanagable due to drinking or drugs, cheer up for there may be something else there that you can relate to and connect with!!

And her name is Genevieve... :D

 

 

 I ran into her just two days ago at Starbucks in Hillcrest. Each time I went to the residential detox program, she was there! I thought, by now she probably works at the place, but no, she said she's about to check into another rehab place in Lemon Grove in two days. Maybe you drunks and addicts will get to meet her! She's very cool but she can be addicting just like heroin or nicotine so be careful.

My Welcome into Hoboville Nov.4, 2008...

Whether you're living in your car behind the AM/PM or sleeping in a dumpster pen beside the grocery store, you're under constant scrutiny by everyone whether you know it or not but most folks don't see nor care to know particular distinctions between hobos unless they know one or two really well. Most folks choose to ignor you and give the impression that they never saw you, while other folks (such as the SDPD) make it their official bid-nis to get their nose into your bid-nis so they'll know what's up and who and where in the event that there's some report about some hobo-related stuff going down. When you're living outside, you might be interested to know, your 4th Amendment rights protecting you from unreasonable search/seizures pretty much vanish and it becomes quite  routine for you to be stopped/searched etc. once a week or four times in one day for no reason other than that you happened to be there when a cop drove past and saw you.

 The first cops I met the very first night became homeless were SDPD Officers Cody and Tyler. I was sound asleep in my car at the Park and Ride behind Best Buys. I guess they knew I was homeless by the heaping stack of crap I had in my backseat. They checked out my license and asked me why I'm sleeping in my car and so I told them my story of how I'd just lost my house in foreclosure etc etc.

Cody and Tyler were sorta like the un-Official Welcoming Committee to Hoboville/Mira Mesa, at least that's the impression I got because as soon as I told them it was my first night in my car, they both started giving me some useful advice. I remember that like it was last week and looking back,
I think that SDPD needs to create a new position/job ( Hoboville Welcoming Host)  and they need to produce a nice sturdy 11"x 14" fold-out style, 4-color, photo-filled glossy brochure/guidebook with area maps and stuff.  It needs to have a catchy and friendly title...

                             "Welcome To Hoboville...
                                               We're The SDPD and We're Here 
                                       To Protect and Service You During Your Stay!"

Come to think of it, while Cody and Tyler are nice cops, they're also serious cops. I believe there's another cop I've met who would perhaps be more suited for this new job as SDPD's Hoboville Welcoming Host. He's recently retired as I understand and so he's probably bored and would like to serve his community again. As I recall from being arrested by him at least three times its his charm, his warmth and his compassion for those filthy drunken hobos nad criminals of every sort and most of all its that New York accent of his that all combine to make retired Officer Steve Wright the perfect  Welcoming Host. Not gonna hold my breath for that to happen. ;p

 

Officer Cody is getting herself a few "fan pics" of the POPULAR HOBO before I
 become a huge celebrity...she's probably gonna sell em on Ebay.

 


I like when Officer Cody stops by to say hello, but we really need more 'quality time' together 
without rollers, cop radios and all the other cop buzz going on that distracts
 her from my radiant charming/whatnot. 

This is the first of a multi-part series as I discuss those first few days and weeks living on the streets in Mira Mesa.
My, my how time flies when you're living this hobo lifestyle.

Danger/Crime Running Free & Fearless in SD

Now just because I happen to be a local News Reporter/ Investigative Journalist, Editor,and News Video/Photographer for the Popular Hobo News & Entertainment blog thing doesn't mean that I've lost my objectivity, my balanced perspective nor have my political views been reconfigured somehow in order to attract more readers to this place.  However, it seems that over this past month, despite my
most diligent (and exceedingly sober) safety-conscience stream of decision making and movements around San Diego, I've seen and/or have been impacted by more acts of violent street crime than ever before.

As you may recall, on March 7th while updating this blog at Starbucks ( 2899 University Ave.) in North Park, my Macbook was snatched out from under my fingertips as I sat outside the coffee shop  at 7ish pm with pedestrians everywhere around me. I'm still upset by that incident and I'm a bit hyper-afraid as well (which, fyi, is two steps below "shit less" on the official fear scale).

After that, I was going to leave this little dumpy apartment here in North Park where I've been staying
with my friend, Uncle Bill. Its been over three weeks since I came here to stay with Uncle Bill for a "few days". I'd felt lucky to be invited to stay here and get out of Mira Mesa for a while after having a nasty confrontation with Mira Mesa's official venomous reptile, hobo Chris White. Any encounter I have with that insane idiot can explode into violence because that's the only thing he thinks about and engages in when he's not in jail. When he made it clear to David Mick and I that he's going to kill me while I'm asleep somewhere around MM, I wasted no time in rounding up a few tools of self protection/defense against an attack. But as you can imagine, after that, I was not sleeping very well
and I was on guard constantly. Plus its very depressing to feel like you're near future is going to be when either you die from stab wounds or you're gonna go to prison because you successfully stopped some would-be killer from making good on his threat.

The more I think about the mortal danger/risks of sleeping outside in Mira Mesa vs. the prevailing crime wave that's alive and kicking my a$$ in North Park while I stay in Uncle Bill's insane apartment, the more inept and vulnerable I feel. That's not good.

Just call 911,you say? Sure its good to them if you have 20 minutes or so advanced notice of being attacked. But a cel phone and the threat of the police arriving is no deterrent to any real boogieman.
The ideal protection a person can hope for in most cases are attentive/alert people nearby you. Preferably a few young guys who can run fast and who will jump to your aid if you're in trouble.
I'm that kind of guy, and I'll always jump into a situation and help the victim but when I'm the victim,
it seems that cowardice is everywhere.

Meanwhile, while I was holed up inside the apt. hiding under my sleeping bag  and sulking over the loss of my Macbook and software and feeling like another boogieman may try and snatch more of my vital and expensive devices/stuff, Uncle Bill walked across the street to a crappy little dive bar the other night and got robbed by the bouncer/employee there!!No shit. He was ordering a beer and had his $ out in his hand and some big thug/goon simply reached over his shoulder and snatched it out of his hand.

Sure Uncle Bill called the po-leece and they got there in a few seconds, but they did nothing.
After all ,what could they do? The bouncer denied it and none of the 6 or 8 patrons at the bar
claimed to see or know anything. Bill's lucky he only lost $35.

To make matters worse, his robbery prompted a discussion between us. Apparently, Uncle Bill has been giving cash to a couple of the regulars at that bar whom happen to be homeless! That means they may know where Bill lives and it wouldn't surprise me if Bill's told them that I'm staying at his place with my laptop and bunch of other electronics crap. (He doesn't realize that some hobos are NASTY CRIMINAL THIEVES.)

These recent incidents have led me to consider buying some sort of safety protection gear.
Firearms are not a likely choice for a hobo but there are other things available that I'm considering.
If I continue to stay here at Uncle Bills crime wave flophouse/apartment, some serious door locks are in order and maybe some surveillance cameras as well. Otherwise, I feel like I need some sort or personal safety device(s). A few hand grenades would do the job but they're not sold in stores.
A nice professional nail gun would be intimidating but not very feasible for riding the bus with.
A marine distress flare gun would be just lovely.You just shoot the boogieman in the ass with a
flare as he runs off with your shit and follow the trail of smoke and bright embers of pretty red twinkle lights shooting out of his asshole for 3 minutes!

Other options include Bear Spray (a potent pepper spray for use against bears), mace (military tear gas), and less exotic tools like box cutters. butcher knives, hatchets and crowbars etc. One thing I do
also instinctively whenever I'm sensing danger nearby, is stop along where ever I'm walking and look for one or two big rocks that are small enough to fit inside my coat pocket and heavy enough to stop some big thug in a heartbeat if I'm attacked. I pulled one out of my pocket one time  and that was enough to stop a would be attacker from getting near me. Its also wise to yell and holler for help if things are getting real dangerous close by. Yell for someone/anyone to call 911 and they will...usually.


I hate the very thought of having to defend myself against a thieve or an assailant with a weapon of some sort especially the kind that make messes and are most likely to result in some one's death or severe permanent injury. What I hate even more is the uncertainty about the dangerous elements that I'm trying to defend against. Its foolish to sit around with a brick in one hand and a knife in the other and think that you're impervious from violent criminals.The fact is (from my own experiences)          
 that, the biggest advantage the attacker has over his victim is the element of surprise. In order for you to fend off an attack or thwart a robbery, you almost need to anticipate it and have your weapon/ protection ready to use before he strikes.That means that you've gotta walk around all day and night everywhere you go wound up like a spring, looking around 360º profiling everyone you meet and otherwise behaving as if you're on the front line of a military battlefield waiting to encounter the enemy. That's too much work and  besides its not very sociable to look like that.

Is it really getting to be that dangerous out here in Hoboville? Do I really need to carry more crap
than I already have in my pockets just in case I get attacked.I wish the answer was NO but as long as I see violent ex-con insane predators like Chris White cruising around looking for trouble and punk ass thieves laughing like children as they run away with my stuff, I've got to have some sort of self protection. I can't afford not to.

While most folks can make firm choices about where to live very quickly when their safety is at risk,
for me safety has become merely one more abstract attribute for consideration. I've been robbed  and beaten up by total strangers and other creeps too many times since becoming homeless to assume that I can avoid danger anywhere I go. For me its gonna come down to logistics: How much extra crap to I have to lug around everywhere I go in order to safe guard my shit? What restrictions/ inconveniences do I place on my mobility while carrying tools for safety?How much jail time am I willing to risk serving for using some sort of "weapon" to defend myself (assuming there are no witnesses around to back up my story)?

Safety is about risk taking-- taking one dangerous risk to reduce another.  Possibly and preferably spilling someone elses blood in order to avoid them spilling mine. There is only a "fair to good" chance of being safe even if I take the risk of preparing myself against the risk of danger. Yes merely preparing for self defense incurs a substantial risk of me possibly being arrested for carrying a concealed weapon (although I don't envision myself walking around holding a 16" long butcher knife  in my hand everywhere I go although I'd use it to cut my hamburgers and fries into little pieces at Jack N The Box and to stir my coffee at Starbucks).

Funny how depending on the situation, conceivably ANYTHING a person carries could  be deemed a weapon..a hair brush, a toothbrush,a ballpoint pen, a can of deodorant, a can of chili etc.
Last month I went downtown to the Hall of Justice to meet with the District Attorney regarding the trial of a local idiot who attacked me with a piece of lumber back in June and I was asked  by the Sheriff Deputies to leave the building after I set off the metal detectors with my metallic fork and spoon that were inside my backpack. I could return if without my fork and spoon but since I had no hotel room or storage place downtown to stash my metallic stuff, I called the lawyers and they came come down the elevator from their 11th floor offices and met with me outside on the sidewalk. They weren't afraid of my fork and spoon and they know I'm a hobo and that I carry lots of
my "household goods/belongings" with me where ever I go.

All in all, this entire situation...the inevidible crime wave I'm seeing here can  perhaps best be reduced by me getting off the streets and back into the work force. Otherwise I just  seem to lend myself to these dangerous situations.