Kismet/Hot or Homeless?

[nfotxn]

On the way home from work I met up with Rose, my favourite elitist. That is seriously a term of endearment as she is probably the smartest girl I know. Laser whip fast but also able to listen and compromise. She was on her way to Joe's and tackled me downtown as I zombie walked to my transfer bus entranced by the GlassPod.

At Joe's I mentioned that his house was architecturally much like the home I grew up on. He casually asked where that was to which I replied "In the west end on Ewen Road". Which is where both his parents grew up at the same time as my Mom and her family. His Dad at 195 and my Mom at 162. It was really neat to connect with his folks like that talking about all the old folks in the neighbourhood. How Rob Low is still repelling from his weeping willows to trim them every summer, now well into his 80s!

I sustain that my neighbourhood I grew up in shaped a lot of how I am. It is a geographically isolated bit of the city at the foot of the escarpment. Very lower middle-class and just brimming with real and unpretentious working folk. A stark contrast to the well-to-do-ness of Westdale and the homes of the elite and university associated but across Main St. To this day I still don't understand why my neighbourhood remains like a time capsule. Ewen Road even still seems trapped in the 1950s where everyone is connected and concerned. People bring you casseroles when you are sick. And if it snows hard it is not a question as to weather or not you shovel your neighbour's driveway. You simply do. Meeting Joe's parents was a pleasant reminder of those roots.

We did as most brainy nerdy kids our age and situation in Hamilton do. We went to Tim Horton's and bought coffee and donuts. What's fun is that the smoking by-law in Hamilton has changed and become stringent like most other modern municipalities. The only concession some restaurants unlicensed to sell liquor made was that of the ventilated dedicated smoking room. This comes in form of a glassed in gas chamber that is usually full up and casting a blue haze. The advantage is that nerds like us have the rest of the premise to our selves to declare our love of rim jobs and discuss the health risks of a job in highway construction in light of the necessity of class ascension in an increasingly hostile financial world.

Oh and Saturday night I got drunk and played pool. Beer after a long stressful day is so... wow.

But moving back to today. On my way home I was running, again to transfer my bus downtown, and had the strangest thing yelled out the window at me. Not the regular "FAG!" but this time:

-- Brrun heller'osingsoon!!

At first I didn't understand what the fuck the fat dude in the white SUV meant. But as the worlds de-scrambled I determined he meant to have said: "Better run, the shelter is closing soon".

Now I agree that I do have a bit of an untamed beard of late. And It's frankly my one counter-cultural accoutrements that I pride myself on. Although I like to keep a semblance of regard to conformist grooming only to prevent it from ever being an issue with work. I suppose that combined with my Nanook of the North hat (see TV GUIDE) I suppose I did look kinda homeless-esque.

At first I got really upset and thought of all sorts of ways I could prove I wasn't. Run up to the nerd stopped but 50-100m away at the next light and do something really absurd like key his car or spit on it or something. This is how my po-mo Celtic descendant brain works in response to a confrontational situation:

1. Ream enemy's guts out their ass hole and run it up a flag pole
2. Failing that think of something offensive but vaguely legally acceptable. Usually involves a bodily function. This is what like to call the Soccer Hooligan Stage.
3. And finally having done the above but only in your head think of something hilarious or silly about the whole situation and chuckle a bit.

I concluded that fat dude in SUV with poor speech patterns might have actually been genuinely concerned for my well being. After all this is Hamilton where the local paper reported of late citing a 20% rate of poverty. Because minimum wage is so low and so many employers unofficially demand full availability for part-time hours there are more and more families in this situation.

Very distressing.

Comments

[abearius.livejournal.com]

This is how my po-mo Celtic descendant brain works in response to a confrontation situation

Brilliant. I will steal this.

[thefatrooster.livejournal.com]

I was once asked if I was homeless by a city agency that would pick up homeless people from the streets and take them to shelters. Me being the nutjob I am, took it as a compliment.

I also think I scored an indie cred point or two for the encounter.

[bitterlawngnome.livejournal.com]

No way do you look homeless. Just some asshat trying to be funny.

[nfotxn.livejournal.com]

Awww, thanks. What an odd way to be funny though... hating on the poor.

Instead of a flag pole

[backrubbear.livejournal.com]

I heartily recommend the head on top of a pike. Then again, if you're a Celt, perhaps making their skull into a drinking vessel is more appropriate.

Re: Instead of a flag pole

[nfotxn.livejournal.com]

Mmmm, drinking. Is that what the celts did? I resisted getting to know about my supposed ancient heritage 'cause, well, Dad's family is always going on about that stuff. Scots are an ethnocentric bunch.

Re: Instead of a flag pole

[backrubbear.livejournal.com]

Celts certainly drank a bunch. They still do. :-)

I think the whole skull thing may have been more Pictish than generic "Celtic", but my knowledge of the matter is rather out of date. All I know about Celtic culture is pre 10th century and biased towards Viking/Celtic cultural interaction.