Here’s a sampling from our Kitchen that represents the general downtrodden found in the streets and soup lines across America. About forty eaters surround me daily of which I estimated based on my fifteen tramping years:

  •         ¼ have part-time jobs but few work full-time.
  •         ½ beg.
  •         ¼ would give you the shirt off their back but would you wear it?
  •         ¼ would steal something unattended of value but hardly any will force a robbery.
  •         ½ are content and at peace with themselves.
  •         10% are crazy, like the muttering geezer who tosses the bright salad colors.
  •         The crazies (usually from drugs) insist their plight is superior to the normal citizen’s.
  •         1/8 have ridden a freight train but not around here where there’s only a spur track.
  •         1/8 drive a jalopy they can fix to the Kitchen.
  •         ¼ walk to, from and live on the Colorado River.
  •         The collection is comprised of 1/3 Mexican, black and white.
  •         All mind their own business but most will help you in a jam.
  •         1/20  are in a class of their own like master sled dogs who’ve fought by tooth and claw for years to lug the sled, and these are picked from a crowd by their calm advance.
  •         ¼ are female but few bring children.
  •         ¼ did a crime for which they were never caught.
  •         ¾ spent time in a calaboose and philosophize as Jack Black in You Can’t Win, ‘Justice is a word that resides in the dictionary. It occasionally makes its escape but is promptly caught and put back where it belongs.’
  •         Those who were incarcerated fall into thirds: At fault, not at fault, probably at fault.
  •         ¼ finished high school and are worth talking to.
  •         ¼ nearly always keep their word, even to you or me.

 

The reason they live marginally is divided into fifths like today’s potato pie: Too dumb, ‘you can’t  win’, too lazy, drugs or alcohol, or satisfied to live on a small dole.