Who are the People in Your Neighborhood!

Helter Skelter Hippie?

Every time I drive to the Studio Lot in Burbank I see this weird, bedraggled guy wandering near the street. He looks like a cross between Bob Marley, Pig Pen and Charles Manson. The poor guy is either a serious junkie or mentally ill or both. Probably both. I've seen him like twenty times already and I always have this desire to stop, get out of my car, and see what his deal is. But the guy is pretty big, and not all there and could decide to kill me. What's a curoius and concerned citizen to do? I don't want to call the cops. Because the cops suck. They're professional bullies who'd probably scare the wits out of Bob Marley-Charlie Manson and put him in a choke hold and beat him into an even greater state of senseless. This dirty, dreadlocked, guy isn't harming anyone and he might be perfectly contented living his life the way he does. Who the hell am I to judge him? But the fact is I do make assumptions. I assume that he sleeps outside because of the way he's dressed and that he's a bit off because of his vacant far away look and his unsteady balance. There must be hundreds of thousands of these people all across California alone. And what pisses me off the most is that it makes it much harder for me to complain about my own life. Can't somebody take care of these destitude people so that I can rant and moan about how tough my life is with a clear conscious. One of the greatest joys I have is complaining to friends and family about the bumps in the road of my life and now this misanthrope has taken that away from me. Personally I wish I could shead my negative way of thinking and just live for the moment. Fire up my Zen Grill and really get my Buddah on. But I have responsibilities, people who rely on me and dogs who have adopted me as their leader. So, much as I might like to, I can't just roam the earth as a free spirit. And then I start to think about this Charlie-Marley guy. He's living off the grid. He's living completely from moment to moment, without bills to pay or other people to consider (plus the weather is nice here in LA, so all he really has to worry about is finding food) He's got it easy. Maybe he has the secret to being in harmony with the Universe. Maybe he's got the Philosopher's Stone in one pocket and a frequent flyer card for Nirvana Airways in the other. If you ask me it's the people with money and "success" who are stuck in Coach Class-- squeezed in behind the screaming baby and Grandpa Halitosis. Maybe this Chuck-Marley guy has it all figured out but nobody has ever bothered to pull over on their way to work and ask him. Well, dear readers, I guess this snake will just chase his tail until he tuckers himself out, pops a ruffie, and goes to bed.