The Homeless

I left Chinatown around 1:30am tonight (after a really great night...I'm excited for August!), and as the light at the I-94 ramp turned red, I slowed to a stop. To my left was a man with the typical "homeless, please help, God bless" sign. I observed him for a bit, seeing his relaxed body as he sat on the curb in the breezy night. In a way, the world really is his home. "The World" is his address. If he wants to get a bit more specific, he'd say, "Illinois", or even "South Ruble Street on a beautiful day and under a nearby ramp on a nasty day."

Part of me recognized dejection in his slumped shoulders, a blow to the ego that inevitably happens to those faced with the plight of homelessness. But it was so calm and peaceful outside. A huge difference from the crazy stifling traffic in the daytime. He looked comfortable and untroubled. From the inside looking out, I envied him. Now, I know I just blogged yesterday about the wonders of home--MY home; I still have those sentiments. But wouldn't it be nice to stop paying loans, worrying about house mortgages, filling up the gas tank...

(Yes, it's obviously nice having health insurance and having the security of four walls & a roof. I'm just dwelling on the beauties of homelessness & ignoring the rest (from my point of view).)

After a bit of musing & locating food in Emilio, my Jeep, I rolled my window halfway down (my mom gave me this 1/2way down idea once when I fed Freddy while on the phone with her--I'll save this story for another time) & held out the VBS snack from tonight. Chex Mix, Cocoa Puffs, pretzels and...GUMMY BEARS! Thank God that 1. tonight's VBS snack came in a Ziploc bag (or else I'd have no food to give him) and 2. I didn't eat all the gummy bears.

I said, "Hi! My name is Jessica. Here's some food." He told me his name is John & proceeded to thank me and give me a glimpse into his life. As I drove away, I watched him return to his grassy bed and plop down, relaxed. I still had 40 miles to go & fought back the urge to turn around & find my own plot of grass to call home for a night.

As I drove home, I realized that I felt the same way I did when reading Jack Kerouac's On the Road last summer. Well, parts of it. The happy parts, which just so happen to be my favorite parts. The homeless have always had a special place in my heart, and I have an unhealthy fascination with homelessness. Walking down Michigan Ave as a kid. Feeding the homeless in Nashville. CityLights*. Hanging out with the homeless in Berlin. In fact, I wholeheartedly decided to pursue medicine on a bright summer day on my way to a homeless shelter. I had a map of Berlin in one hand, anxious to amass more research for my project. So inevitably, the word, Homeless, made its way into the first sentence of my med school personal statement.

Somehow, about 10 miles from home, I discovered that the front passenger side window of Emilio was broken. I love Emilio, but the windows have a mind of their own. So by the time I parked him in the garage, the entire window was down. My best judgment told me it's not a good idea to leave it like this for over a month, so now I have to wake up even earlier than planned to take him to the Jeep dealer.

The homeless don't need alarm clocks, right? And I don't think the homeless have to deal with faulty car windows, do they? I find this fascinating. :)

*CityLights. St. Louis. Spring Break. AACF! We watched "The Saint of Fort Washington". Really, really, really awesome movie.