Thanks and Giving and my new website is up!
www.alotoflife.com is re-designed and I am very happy about it. The site is much lighter and easier to navigate. Or at least I think so. AND I have control over my blog. Nice.
I want people to go see it but I will cut and paste my latest blog in LJ - just because.
Thanks and Giving
This was our fourth year of making Thanksgiving sandwiches to bring to homeless people in San Francisco. Each year we meet new people and learn more about ourselves and about homelessness, humanity and resourcefulness.
We’ve got the sandwich making down to a science. Dani and I managed to make 100 sandwiches this year - with two turkeys, 8 pans of stuffing (yummy organic goodiness with lots of ingredients), 3 large jars of mayo, 7 heads of lettuce, 12 loaves of bread and 8 cans of cranberry sauce. Parker and I also made 10 dozen chocolate chip cookies from scratch but we could have made more. Together, with April and our friend Isabella, we gave out two cases of tangerines and 4 cases of water with dinner. Next year I want to give away black socks. Many people could have used socks.
Pushing a heavily laden cart, a man with soft brown eyes led us under Highway 101 where we could smell the crack before we could see all the people. Our guide asked, “Why? Why are you bothering with us? We’re nothing but a buncha cold-hearted dope fiends.” I shrugged and smiled and ventured my opinion. “I think you’re probably a bunch of warm hearted dope fiends in cold hearted circumstances.” It might have sounded cliche but the truth was clearly in front of us. Addicts huddled under the overpass, looking out for each other, smiling and grateful for fresh food. Our eyes locked in silence until, finally, our guide shook his head warily. “Well, I don’t know. What you are doing - it’s pretty amazing.”
We saw the industry of friends banding together to collect recyclable items for income. We saw a couple who proudly clean and watch over a parking lot in exchange for the relative security of the ant-infested area inside the fence. We saw elaborate cardboard houses under bridges, some with blankets, some with tarps, others with no cover at all. We met two clear blue-eyed, white-haired gentlemen who had decent tents and a cart to pack everything onto when the police eventually tell them to move on. There was a man who wore a security uniform and another who had terrible cuts on his legs.
We went to places where people lay on the bare cement among broken glass, needles and garbage. We went to places where families huddled in blankets. Pk smiled to see a puppy. There was the bloating of alcohol poisoning and the the quiet clear loneliness of a woman who had once had a family, but doesn’t any more. Some people had eaten but many, definitely had not. They took an extra sandwich for a friend - or maybe just to have tomorrow. We met Elaine and Al and George and Bill. There were thanks and smiles and a few stories. With April and the kids, it was awkward to really get into to much visiting but I shook hands and looked people in the eye. I listened to whatever anyone wanted to say and wished I could have stayed much longer.
We met queers and straight couples, drunks and sober people, men and women of many races and colors and ages. We met people who spoke almost no English and others who were too out of it to speak at all. We were greeted - always - with grace and hospitality. One man saw Pk eying his MAD magazine and insisted that Pk take it. The date of the magazine was the year that Pk was born - 1997. One man asked where did I get the strength to go to places - to bring my family to places - where everyone else wants to avoid or forget.
I did not know how to answer him.
I think I said that it was the spirit of life. Like some people might call it god or love or grace. But really, I do not know. I just know that I wish I could go out all the time and just listen. The food is just an excuse to have a reason to start a conversation.
When darkness fell, we made our way up to Bernal Heights where our friends Ren and Heidi hold their annual feast. We laughed with young girls and elderly women, with old friends and new. Pk carried little Teddy in the soup bucket and there were dogs everywhere! At the end of the day, after driving home, Dani and I lay in each others arms and marveled at the luxury of a bed. I mourned the disparity between myself and the people I met that day. We were not so different at all and the injustice of our circumstances weighed heavily on my heart.
People say that I inspire them. What I really hope - is that I inspire them to do something.
In health news - can you believe it? To add to my splitting headaches, I have thrush in my mouth. It is hot and stinging and PAINFUL! I am taking the probiotics and the antibiotics don’t seem to have any effect whatsoever on the infection that still resides firmly in my sinus. Pain is a mighty force. That’s all I can say.
I want people to go see it but I will cut and paste my latest blog in LJ - just because.
Thanks and Giving
This was our fourth year of making Thanksgiving sandwiches to bring to homeless people in San Francisco. Each year we meet new people and learn more about ourselves and about homelessness, humanity and resourcefulness.
We’ve got the sandwich making down to a science. Dani and I managed to make 100 sandwiches this year - with two turkeys, 8 pans of stuffing (yummy organic goodiness with lots of ingredients), 3 large jars of mayo, 7 heads of lettuce, 12 loaves of bread and 8 cans of cranberry sauce. Parker and I also made 10 dozen chocolate chip cookies from scratch but we could have made more. Together, with April and our friend Isabella, we gave out two cases of tangerines and 4 cases of water with dinner. Next year I want to give away black socks. Many people could have used socks.
Pushing a heavily laden cart, a man with soft brown eyes led us under Highway 101 where we could smell the crack before we could see all the people. Our guide asked, “Why? Why are you bothering with us? We’re nothing but a buncha cold-hearted dope fiends.” I shrugged and smiled and ventured my opinion. “I think you’re probably a bunch of warm hearted dope fiends in cold hearted circumstances.” It might have sounded cliche but the truth was clearly in front of us. Addicts huddled under the overpass, looking out for each other, smiling and grateful for fresh food. Our eyes locked in silence until, finally, our guide shook his head warily. “Well, I don’t know. What you are doing - it’s pretty amazing.”
We saw the industry of friends banding together to collect recyclable items for income. We saw a couple who proudly clean and watch over a parking lot in exchange for the relative security of the ant-infested area inside the fence. We saw elaborate cardboard houses under bridges, some with blankets, some with tarps, others with no cover at all. We met two clear blue-eyed, white-haired gentlemen who had decent tents and a cart to pack everything onto when the police eventually tell them to move on. There was a man who wore a security uniform and another who had terrible cuts on his legs.
We went to places where people lay on the bare cement among broken glass, needles and garbage. We went to places where families huddled in blankets. Pk smiled to see a puppy. There was the bloating of alcohol poisoning and the the quiet clear loneliness of a woman who had once had a family, but doesn’t any more. Some people had eaten but many, definitely had not. They took an extra sandwich for a friend - or maybe just to have tomorrow. We met Elaine and Al and George and Bill. There were thanks and smiles and a few stories. With April and the kids, it was awkward to really get into to much visiting but I shook hands and looked people in the eye. I listened to whatever anyone wanted to say and wished I could have stayed much longer.
We met queers and straight couples, drunks and sober people, men and women of many races and colors and ages. We met people who spoke almost no English and others who were too out of it to speak at all. We were greeted - always - with grace and hospitality. One man saw Pk eying his MAD magazine and insisted that Pk take it. The date of the magazine was the year that Pk was born - 1997. One man asked where did I get the strength to go to places - to bring my family to places - where everyone else wants to avoid or forget.
I did not know how to answer him.
I think I said that it was the spirit of life. Like some people might call it god or love or grace. But really, I do not know. I just know that I wish I could go out all the time and just listen. The food is just an excuse to have a reason to start a conversation.
When darkness fell, we made our way up to Bernal Heights where our friends Ren and Heidi hold their annual feast. We laughed with young girls and elderly women, with old friends and new. Pk carried little Teddy in the soup bucket and there were dogs everywhere! At the end of the day, after driving home, Dani and I lay in each others arms and marveled at the luxury of a bed. I mourned the disparity between myself and the people I met that day. We were not so different at all and the injustice of our circumstances weighed heavily on my heart.
People say that I inspire them. What I really hope - is that I inspire them to do something.
In health news - can you believe it? To add to my splitting headaches, I have thrush in my mouth. It is hot and stinging and PAINFUL! I am taking the probiotics and the antibiotics don’t seem to have any effect whatsoever on the infection that still resides firmly in my sinus. Pain is a mighty force. That’s all I can say.