I Hope To Shout
Sunday, September 21, 2008
I slept snug as a bedbug on a foam mattress in a Muni bus shelter. Early morning sunlight cast a soft yellow glow around me. I didn't notice if it was one of Mayor Gavin Newsom's new three-sided "green" bus shelters. MyMUNIspace offered more shelter with three and one-half sides. Later, I stood in a dirty restroom taking what my Mother use to call a"spit" bath.
Fear gripped me down to my bones when I woke up. Is fear wrestling my subconcious dreams in the wake of a complete U.S. economic meltdown? Maybe. Am I beside myself at this mind-boggling trillion dollar debt we owe around the globe? Definitely.
Should I find a therapist or call Suze Orman? Consider me Suze's worst nightmare. I mastered Suze's list of 'do's and don'ts' long before this week's complete financial tsunami. FICO,SCHMICO. Suze, it feels way too late.
Then, I wondered.
Is fear cloaking the homeless man who shuffles up and down California Street, past Nob Hill's Grace Cathedral, luxury hotels, and dog walkers in Huntingdon Park? Sadness washes over me as I watch him from my seat on the cable car. He hugs "thin rail"arms to his chest, he carries nothing.
Yesterday, I began cleaning out things. Bits and pieces that I don't need, let alone have room for in my apartment. So, I'm taking all of this as a sign of change rather than a wake-up call.
And if anyone else out there experiences phobias about waking up with bedbugs in a Muni bus shelter, I'd like to hear from you. Who knows, maybe a C.W. Nevius column in The Chronicle about our plight could help others, too.