pjthompson (
pjthompson) wrote2006-12-05 10:59 am
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And goodwill towards all
There's a sight I've seen many mornings on my way to work: a guy in a wheelchair begging for money at the median strip of a busy intersection in Marina del Rey--Mindanao and Lincoln. I make a left turn there into the Marina coming to work and he frequently arrives at his begging location about that time. I think he makes a decent chunk of change at this location. The thing is, I've seen this tableaux develop over time.
When I first started seeing this guy, he'd walk briskly towards his median strip, straight backed, cup of Starbuck's in hand, and pushing the wheelchair ahead of him. Once he got to the median, he'd get into the chair, then slump over in the most pitiable fashion, like he could barely sit up straight. His hand-lettered sign on cardboard read always some variation on, "Need money for food."
I think one of the people in the local businesses must have called him on it. I'd swear I saw a woman out there one day wagging a finger in his face, but maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part. The last couple of times I've seen him, however, he's wheeled himself in the chair from one of the side streets to his median. Today, he had a new wrinkle. He'd dressed himself in an Old Navy sweatshirt and had a pair of those sweats that say "Marines" down the leg. I'll lay you odds his hand-lettered sign now reads something about "Vet--need money for food." It's a good thing I didn't actually see that sign or I definitely would have been the woman wagging the finger in his face this morning.
There are so many people in genuine need, vets and otherwise, and it infuriates me that this crook is filching people not just of their money, but of their goodwill. We need all the goodwill we can get in this world, and every time some shiftless con artist bilks the public like this, a little more faith, hope and charity is lost, maybe for good.
And now for something completely different...
Stupid pet trick of the day: Talking starlings have a habit of shuffling words around or squishing them together. This is a well-known trait, and not exclusive to Baby the Talking Starling Who Lives At My House. The roommate told him so often that he was "a sweet, sweet baby bird" that he started saying, "Sweet, sweet baby bird." Apparently that was too much of a mouthful because he took the "sw" of sweet and the "aby" of baby and has now started saying, "Swabbie!" He's very enthusiastic in his use of the word.
My dad, the former Marine, told me lots of stories about swabbies, none of them flattering, and a bad influence on babies of all sizes and species. So I've inquired of Baby if he's sure he wants to be talking about them. He just replies, "Swabbie!"
Random quotes of the day:
"A society of sheep must in time beget a government of wolves."
—Bertrand de Jouvenel
"Happy is the child whose father goes to the devil."
—16th century proverb
Disclaimer for the Quote(s) of the Day:
These quotes do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, The Universe or its subsidiaries, Leonard Maltin, Siegfried and Roy, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. However, they frequently reflect the views of the Cottingsley Fairies.
When I first started seeing this guy, he'd walk briskly towards his median strip, straight backed, cup of Starbuck's in hand, and pushing the wheelchair ahead of him. Once he got to the median, he'd get into the chair, then slump over in the most pitiable fashion, like he could barely sit up straight. His hand-lettered sign on cardboard read always some variation on, "Need money for food."
I think one of the people in the local businesses must have called him on it. I'd swear I saw a woman out there one day wagging a finger in his face, but maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part. The last couple of times I've seen him, however, he's wheeled himself in the chair from one of the side streets to his median. Today, he had a new wrinkle. He'd dressed himself in an Old Navy sweatshirt and had a pair of those sweats that say "Marines" down the leg. I'll lay you odds his hand-lettered sign now reads something about "Vet--need money for food." It's a good thing I didn't actually see that sign or I definitely would have been the woman wagging the finger in his face this morning.
There are so many people in genuine need, vets and otherwise, and it infuriates me that this crook is filching people not just of their money, but of their goodwill. We need all the goodwill we can get in this world, and every time some shiftless con artist bilks the public like this, a little more faith, hope and charity is lost, maybe for good.
And now for something completely different...
Stupid pet trick of the day: Talking starlings have a habit of shuffling words around or squishing them together. This is a well-known trait, and not exclusive to Baby the Talking Starling Who Lives At My House. The roommate told him so often that he was "a sweet, sweet baby bird" that he started saying, "Sweet, sweet baby bird." Apparently that was too much of a mouthful because he took the "sw" of sweet and the "aby" of baby and has now started saying, "Swabbie!" He's very enthusiastic in his use of the word.
My dad, the former Marine, told me lots of stories about swabbies, none of them flattering, and a bad influence on babies of all sizes and species. So I've inquired of Baby if he's sure he wants to be talking about them. He just replies, "Swabbie!"
Random quotes of the day:
"A society of sheep must in time beget a government of wolves."
—Bertrand de Jouvenel
"Happy is the child whose father goes to the devil."
—16th century proverb
Disclaimer for the Quote(s) of the Day:
These quotes do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, The Universe or its subsidiaries, Leonard Maltin, Siegfried and Roy, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. However, they frequently reflect the views of the Cottingsley Fairies.
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On Sunday Toby (Jack Russell, normally an intelligent breed) and I went round to have dinner in my oldest friend's great-nephew's house (sorry about that, but life is complicated). I gave Toby a bone type chew. He spent 5 minutes walking round in circles trying to find somewhere to bury it. Finally he noticed the mat just inside the front door, industriously dug up one corner of it, tucked about 10% of the chew under it, carefully nosed the imaginary soil or sand or whatever back over it and went off satisfied.
Okay, symbolic thinking is supposed to be an aspect of human intelligence, but in this case... no.
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Yeah, scam artists. But the ones who really bug me, the street folk who swear and cuss you because you don't give them anything.
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Cute.
But the ones who really bug me, the street folk who swear and cuss you because you don't give them anything.
Yes! There was a time when Santa Monica, the city I work in, was feeding homeless people out of city hall. A wonderful thought, but it meant the streets were awash with homeless of all varieties, including the mentally ill who screamed and harrassed anyone who walked by them. It made going for a walk a lunch a real...adventure.
It's a thorny problem, but mentally ill people need to be in treatment, not shunted out onto the streets as soon as their insurance/medicare runs out. Scam artists like this other guy? I just don't know.
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The Jouvenel quote is most excellent.
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Yep. Not something you play with.