[Too tired to edit:]
Vail: A Deadly Journey,
It's been three days since I told my Dad I was homeless. I finally heard from him. As a former detective, I am surprised he had not figured it out, by himself. I had been honest with my Mom and the only reason I finally told him was because I had lost my keep.
America's motto was work, work, work - but work was not my answer.
It would have provided a solution to an immediate need. It was not the answer.
However, to all but very few friends - Jeff aakd Chevelle - getting a roof over my head should have been my number one priority. Both of these friends are African American. I only day that because the friendships lasted for decades, through the good times and the bad times.
Marshall has moved on. He is an electrician with a family; dogs and everything. Dogs may be the last thing we have in common now. Even Marshal believes that without police we would have warlords. Sometimes I long for the freedom that sort of society affords one. It is not just a luxury, it becomes a necessity.
We touch that primal nature within ourselves. But I was lucky enough to be alive and I knew it.
I had read that Buddha had required his disciples to beg - some might say Jesus was a beggar - in order to humble them. My Father had a different word for that.
"Johnny, your a bum."
Just because my Father was blount didn"t mean he didn't love me. Buddha has his beliefs. America has the it's own.
Cultural, maybe spiritual differences.
Diametrically opposed!
@vanzandt said a hard life gives you character.
@speedo said that I had just taken the first step. If you are a member of a church, synagogue or 12 step program, I do not mean to offend. But that is not that they were talking about.
I cannot honestly say.
There I go again. Mixing a potentially interesting story with my bullshit. That's all it has ever been with me. I was going to con the educational system. In a sense, I did. But the reality was. I was lucky to be alive.
If you scroll through this thread you will see two pictures. In one I am sitting, filming a documentary about changing the educational system.
I was only there to have documentation of exactly how I looked. The only black shirt I had was the upper half of a thermal set. I would sleep under the stars, in the CO winter fall and winter. But I was lucky to be alive.
In that pic you will see me with an odd grin. That is the Mona Lisa smoke. It's non commits and is a technique I use when I have been sandbagged. I was caught off guard, not necessarily in a bad way.
Six months previously I had decided to forego work. I would use the last but bit of cash I had - I am a better spender than a saver, an in the moment kind of guy - but I have always used communication hacks to get by; with or without hard work.
Not only was I lucky to be alive, but I just made my first $75 as an extra in a film. I have no desire to be Morgan Freeman, but let me be an extra in Sanford and Son and you can count me in!
But that is not true either.
The Craigslist ad was bait! I won't defend what happened except to say I have never hated teachers, but my expansion experience has shown me that they show up in all walks of life.
To the guys at Peterson Corp. In Tampa, I say thank you for your service. Not just for raising a young man, but giving him that cock suredness to run wild - in the middle of Carrollwood, a suburb of Tampa.
I just heard Chicos closed.
Anyway, I thank my Dad for giving me that stick - the courage to run with a pack of dogs. Friendly, loyal, authentic! The same freedom I had when I ran with a pack of road dogs - but I have never been up the road.
So I have been around some rough characters and freedom was out bond.
I am so close to going off the rails preaching the need for revolution I must say this, nah, I won't. Keep those guys on their toes while I exercise my freedom - a right given by God, confirmed by our Founding Fathers. I am drinking tea as we speak. Let's start the revolution!
When you have faced death and survived, only then can you live. When you meet a cancer survivor they have a quiet strength. Much like someone who saw combat.
Do you think it's any wonder why Magic Johnson is constantly fined for tampering. Well twice, but this time he was just talking, celebrating a player. He not only has fuck you miney, but the disease that was supposed to fuck him got fucked! No shit!
Now - picture this. You are a documentary film maker. Your goal is to show the dire state of our current educational system and what we can do to fix it. Your plan is to have a mock classroom and give outsiders the opportunity to see what a classroom is like.
Here is what I saw. $75 and a chance to be on film. That would be the only way I knew for sure. But I was certain - just as I am now that I made the right decision.
But truthfully I knew I could teach a class. I knew I could speak with the cock cock suredness of a dime a dozen dictator. I knew the power of imagery.
This would be my test.
But the reality was I knew I was lucky to be alive. Before that experience in the depths of hell, otherwise known as Gage Vail, my brushes with death were just that. Accidents that could have been and almost were.
Sitting, parked in Sandee' s car slamming beers before the movie.
"I thought you were someone else."
When I looked down I saw him pulling a gun out of the open window that had been down near my side. I had my back turned. Sandee Sander and I were in our own little world.
The other time was when I jumped out of my car in Tampa street - after dark - to avoid a seat belt ticket. The officer free down on me. Thank God he was one of the good guys!
Even though that God seems to be constantly begging for money! Damn Bum!!
Now if you are in the business of getting a know it all to show how hard teaching is you have hit the jackpot.
I had no desire at the time to be in movies, still don't, but I actually agreed with the film makers. The only problem is I suffer from the crisis of credibility.
However, there is a legitimate way to get it. Author a book! Problem is, that fuck Randy White - or dare I say Cuck if by chance Randy does an ego search - taught me to do things in a spirit of excellence.
But I have noticed something - successful people read this journal - which beats witness with the research. The most prolific readers are wealthy, sometimes healthy and wise. The other factoid is that they are often women, but I have no shot there.
When my Father called me a bum it was three days previous. The email I received on the day of filming was that the fishing trip was canceled and I was no longer welcome in his house.
I couldn't a afford a Men's wearhouse sport coat. But notice something. Everything I preach is on the film. It can be found in YouTube. It's a great film.
I am wearing clean, white shoes, nice jeans and that thermal.
My camoflauge was the city. It out me at odds with the homeless, but I needed to fit in at the coffee shop or hamburger joint. As they rustled the homeless out (and we spent more money than anyone) they would leave me be.
I chose black because it covers a lot of flaws in television. I was actually on a vegetarian, mostly, diet because who wants to give homeless people a bunch of protein. Socks you will get. That and a lot of rice, beans and eggs. As it turns out that may very well have you looking like a super duper model, but I like the way I feel when I eat meat! Cock strong, not like a super model!
But if that's your thing and you are an expert write a book about it. Give it away to a sympathetic audience until you get 100 reviews. The star rating is always sympathetic even if the comments are harsh. Put that shot on Amazon, for free, until you do.
There I go again. Teaching people as I go along. As it turns out one of the best ways to gain mastery is to teach others.
I have learned from all of you. But you know what. Until the BOSS writes a book I will just have to take the word of someone who might know. The rest of that is bullshit.
Find the movie. Judge for yourself as I am ambushed in an interview. Not in a Michael Moore way. Only that I would hear some really disturbing news!
Much worse than the what my Father had emailed me. That's when I put on the Mona Lisa smile.
But on the inside, a little failure wasn't going to stop me!
I am attempting to write a comedy routine and that is the hardest. Johnny Rock is the character. A trickster. Entertainment for the Gods.
But there is a part of that movie I did not expect. My true payment.
It was the natural me. Encouraging someone who set me up, a whole profession actually. But it was not just what I said. It was the way my eyes out up, that devilish, boyish smile that I realized, it has never been about how I looked. It was how I made people feel.
The director uses a cinematic technique to capture the moment. But the film is full of good moments. Great moments!
But I was lucky to be alive.
I was at the Springs Rescue Mission rating the best rice I had ever had! They have a training program where they teach homeless people a skill. A local chef overseeo the program. Thank God! Or at least that Chef!
Sitting across from me is a talkative female who is with Gage. I never saw her again. That would not be the only missing person.
The three of us make plans to go to FL. My father had no idea I was homeless. I was out of cash, but that was not why. It doesn't really matter, but ...
It's hard to explain what happened. Imagery is part of the con, but reading people is the key. Whether your goal is to push someone's buttons to hustle him or ask that girl for her number - or something important like knowing when to just ask for the signature and get out of dodge.
There is a time for everything. At least everything you have a shot at getting. Then for the rest you don't waste your time.
Gage Vail was probably about 5' 9" talk. Almost my height. Slender build. Not a lot of protein in those kind of streets. Anything to keep the masses docile.
Gage only appeared docile.
"Johnny, are you a tough guy? Can you handle yourself?"
Like Sub Tszu my answer is fluid. If you are overmatched show strength. Feign weakness to invite an attack.
I did not know him, but this was an odd conversation to have with a stranger.
"Nah, not really. I pretty much leave people alone."
Although being tough is relative, out there I considered everyone armed and dangerous. Everyone had a knife. I carried a hatchet. Shock and awe, baby!
It was in my pack, but God forbid I should use it. But my Dad taught me. If you pull it you use it. He taught me never to run!
Life taught me to follow my guy.
I tried once to change the subject, but Gage was making a point to tell me he carried hot shot.
Not a bright idea in my book, but maybe he wants me to know not to fuck with him.
SStrong arm robberyain''t my thang, but definitely not as homeless dude.
Why is he telling me about putting a finger in someone's eye.
So about this time I realize I need to get away from him. I knew I wasn't going to FL with this weirdo.
Other than that you might consider him charming.
The following morning we are at ESM. Everyone was. Get that shower at 9 am! Ain't that a little late for people with jobs?
He asks about FL? I deflect but am Bob committal. This is early October Gage has his bike and the same shorts and tee he had on the day before. Up walls a nineteen or twenty year old. Gage bolts over to her. I am just not having enough protein to entertain that thought either. They leave together before the place opens.
I would run into Gage later that day. Dressed the same.
"Where's the girl?"
Gage would go on to tell me that the two of them went to the mountains.
If you tell me you have to wash your hair or baby sit the dog, I get the point. Even a bad trader sometimes recognizes when he is being lied to.
He would go on to tell me that he went by himself. It's been about seven years but I remember him telling me she went on her house and did not my come out. Maybe it was her Mother's house.
I could get that. So for now this is just another dude lying about some chick. Now that's something I am used to. Just make it a good story. Maybe give the story a moral fiber that outlines the core. Nah. Tell me how you had her bent over and her titties were flopping!
Okay. Back to normal. We hung out for the remainder of the day. He begins to show me pictures. Each female is laying down on her side. Naked. Photo from the rear each time.
Three, four, five girls? Can't remember, but one is off unless she was having a conversation with her lover.
Now my gut is churning! Fuck, they make movies about these people!
Contrary to any part of my upbringing I would do two things a man does not do.
The first thing I did was drive to Commerce City. For two weeks I watched movies with the truckers at the TABLE. Sleeping in my keep at an independent truck stop about two miles away. Eating my meals in the restaurant. Showering every few days. Buying a few items out of the storm.
Now I am broke. Out of gas. Not yet hungry. I need to get back to Colorado Springs where the food is. Trees. Somewhere I can camp. My insurance is due. Registration is due. Brakes are squeezing. I think I just heard metal grind.
Get a job? Nope! That was not my answer.
When I returned to the Springs, Gage had made the paper. He took a 30 lb rock and dropped it in Darren' s head, after pelting him with smaller stones, until he fell down. Darren is a red belt in karate and everyone on those dirty streets had heard how Darren beat up two guys who attacked him. Now that's a tough guy!
I am glad I went to Denver. My suspicions were confirmed. I went to the police.
The second thing you don't do. Nobody snitches. Truth is, people get paid tosniitch. Others do it to get out of trouble.
Now a target is on my back. Conversations between homeless people are out in the open.
Murderer? Rapist? Child molester?
I'm gonna say something.
Risking life and limb. Gage would shoot himself. Now, I was a marked man. I wore the Scarlett letter of a snitch.
Even my Dad said, "Nobody likes snitches." He told me that as a young man in High School. I wanted to know what he thought about those snitches in the Air Force that played the most important role in every drug case he made.
But he also taught me the difference between being a good citizen and a snitch. Good citizens make the community safer. Snitches, well, they end up in ditches.
So when you call cops heroes, I don't!
They know the secret. Don't snitch on yourself. Videos of black people getting shot by the police will never matter in a court of law. Cops benefit from that and the halo effect. When questioned, they look sharp, dress sharp and speak- If at all - concisely.
So my battle with them remains.
The CSPD.
If a homeless guy could do it with nothing to gain, why can't you?!!
