Useless Junk of the Day

City Boys

I remember as a child how when we first moved to Grace St. (AKA suitcase alley) in downtown Richmond in 74. I thought that I had been dropped of in hell! The rows and rows of mid 19th century brick houses that were converted into flop houses and low rent flats all had this insidious smell the never leaves you. It was a combination of roach dung, insecticide, old wood, urine, beer, vomit and human stench that fill the halls of EVERY apartment I visited. The halls were filled with the ever present echoes of shouting and fights.

All of my friends had parent (s) who were either prostitutes, drug users, winos, physically abused or all of the above. I remember often roaming the cobble stone alleys or playing stick ball (with a rock) and stumbling on someone’s dad sleeping on some cardboard.

There were times we went days without a decent meal and we had no TV or car. Yet, I always thought we (my mother and I) were well off because we had love, stability and sanity my friends never had. It gave me a real sense of security in an island of chaos and insanity.

The eye of the storm.

Due to this tenuous sense of stability my mother  provided, I always felt like an observer in life. It was like being an outsider to this life of poverty and deviancy. I stopped short of many of the petty criminal acts my friends would do, on moral grounds. Unfortunately, I all but dropped-out of school for a while in 4th grade and did take to weed by 14-15.

Most of my friends never made it to high school. Who could blame them? 25 years before Columbine, we had random acts of violence EVERY DAY that never made the local news.

More gritty details

It’s no wonder these kids turned to drugs for escape. Their lives needed some kind of escape. Drugs were everywhere in our neighborhood. Often, one wouldn’t need to leave their own apartment building to score.

As an example of how pervasive drugs were in that culture; we (at the tender age of 10) would search up and down the alleys amongst the trash cans and evicted furniture in the dirt covers of back yards, to find hypodermic needles. We would break the needles off and use hypos as squirt guns for fun in the scorching sticky southern summers. No one had air conditioning, and a fan was a luxury.

My feelings.

No, I didn’t feel like “cream” has risen to the top. I feel my friends were never given a fighting chance in life. While we all had the same opportunities (or lack thereof), I feel my parents middle class values gave me the edge.

All my friends were born into a family cycle and culture of poverty, I on the other hand, was born into it a circumstance. My parents grew up in the burbs and through a series of incidences and poor choices we ended up in suitcase alley¨ (read skid row). This background is what I believe gives me my unique perspective and empathy for those less fortunate. Without this unique perspective, I would not be able to share and relate this shadowing world with you all.

Reminder Indeed

Drugs in moderation? Sure, but don’t kid yourself. Been there done that. I moderated 13 years of my own life away. It’s the exception and not the rule people are able to moderate their behavior in such a way. It’s a slippery slope and once you start down that path, you don’t see your side often until you are at the bottom. Natural is the way to go, being high is a false reality and will never serve your real interest.

Project updates

How is my pet project? Which one? The more I get involved in the folks form the old neighborhood, the more I take on. The guy I took to NA (Jr.) is doing well. He has not used in over 20 days and is really looking forward to getter his 30 day key chain! I am worried about him getting his tax return though. Money is a big trigger for addicts and they can go off and smoke $900 and not eat for a week in a heart beat.

He still refuses to clean his one room flat though. I wouldnt let a farm animal live in that filth. I promise you, you will never see or small anything like it no matter how bad you college roommate can be. He is still in love with a prostitute who is really bad for him though. She is 8 months pregnant with some John’s baby and shooting up! She comes over to his place and begs him to smoke rock too. He thinks he is cured, I think he is a man on the edge.

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The Bio

Many who have known me on the net over the last few years know that I am fairly successful middle class family man and Democrat extraordinaire who is nuts about Mustangs. Those who really followed my threads also know I grew up in the inner city (read mixed ghetto) in pretty bleak poverty with my mother in a one bedroom flat on the bus line. They also know I was about the only white kid in a violent all black school system just after forced integration began here in the south.

I played in a popular punk band in the early 80s that toured with bands like Black Flag, and was pretty much half cocked, anti-social party boy back in the days before Nancy Reagan’s “Just say no”. After one intense life threatening situation too many (Shoot out with crack head friend) I decided to pull myself up by my boot straps (with some Fed grants ) and go to college where I pulled a 3.67 GPA) But enough about me.

Blast from the Past

Once I cleaned up my act 10+ years ago, I had to turn my back on all my old acquaintances, neighborhood and lifestyle to move forward. I promised to do this WITHOUT forgetting where I came from. (Hence my strong demographic ties despite my income)

Recently, I ran into an old childhood friend who was a life long drug user who lives in a $75 a week flop house in the hood. (MMMMM, love the smell of urine) He is a heavy user by ANY standards but is the gentle type of guy who would NEVER miss a day of work and would litterally give you the shirt off his back in a snow storm.

He told me he wanted to get clean and have a nice family like me. This guy was a complete waste case who never would admit he had a problem. I started taking him down to NA meetings (interesting stuff too) and I bought him bags of groceries and gave him clothes, blankets and old furniture. I am VERY happy to say that he just hit 30 days clean for the first time in over 20 years and he loves it!!!!

Brutal Reality

I decided to take this guy on as a pet project this winter and in doing so he began to reacquaint me with many lost friends (including my old best friend who was like my brother growing up) I was shocked and saddened to see where these people are in life I was blown away by the number of people I knew who were dead from ODing, AIDs, suicide and other crap. I met one old friend who I later found out had AIDS from shooting up whom I saw eating out of a dumpster yesterday downtown. This guy was allways as nice as could be too I actually wondered if a higher power didnt put these visions in my path as a reminder to my blessings and humility.

Two of my old friends JUST got picked up for dealing coke and are looking at STIFF mandatory Federal sentences. (I had no idea what these guys had been up too BTW). Generally speaking, almost everyone I knew from my past was either dead, dying, addicted, in jail or just poor and unhappy. It was VERY sad and is/has been quite an eye opener to see just how far I have come since I changed my path (not to toot my horn by any means) and just how low the path of drugs can take a person once they have been on it a while.

Testimonial

Of course it’s easy to say “Drugs=bad, College=good” and so forth, but when you see it first hand in all its ugliness through the eyes of a seasoned adult, it’s a different story. When your 15-25 it’s a message that is easily ignored, even funny. But if you’re still doing the same things in your mid 30s+ as you were at 19, the reality and consequences of that lifestyle are devastating.

The Moral

The moral of the story? If you are a young hard headed, hard drinking/smoking/dosing live for today type, and you ever get the notion to stop — DO IT!!!!! If you think you are too smart to go down, think again. THE CHICKENS WILL COME HOME TO ROOST! It ¡s inescapable, like the grim reaper himself.

(stay tuned for finer grittier details, it gets MUCH worse)

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