HINJFCA 26: Get A Backbone, Not A Wishbone

With the life-altering events I've undergone since last October, it's easy to overlook the fact that I'm heading into my fifth month of living at the Salvation Army Vocational Center. Luckily, Uncle Sam was kind enough to remind me that my food stamps expire at the end of next month, and I first received them around six months ago.

If you recall from my previous post, AJ had suffered a seizure and was taken to the hospital. Evidently she had an adverse reaction to some medication she takes. The good news is that she's made a complete recovery and is back in the kitchen. That's also the bad news, to a degree. She's just as loud and obnoxious as ever. She's also just as prone to deliver monologues filled with too much information, ala her graphic story concerning her roommate coming out of the shower and displaying some oddly shaped genitalia visible “through, you know, the hairs.” I guess some people simply won't change.

Some important dates of note are March 25 and April 4. The former date has already passed (indicating how far behind I am with this blog) but t still bears comment. 3-25 is the date we no longer have volunteers in the kitchen. Volunteers do a lot of the grunge work in the SA kitchens (like dishwashing, cleaning out grease traps, etc) and that frees up a lot of time for us clients to concentrate on the important stuff – like cooking, serving, and taking excessive smoke breaks (for those who smoke, unlike your humble narrator).

In return for their work (usually a 24 or 40 hour sked), the volunteers received a paid bed in the common dorms and free meals (only during their work shift). Some SA beancounter decided the Vols were getting too much recompense and decreed they get only meals; no more paid accommodations. So the convenience of tossing off a dirty job to a willing Vol is over; who'll work 40 +/- hours just for meals? That means a lot of clients (like me) will be doing a lot more multitasking in the days to come.

Luckily, your humble narrator is regarded as one of the more dependable workers in the kitchen. That makes me wonder if one day SA might be pushed into hiring some of their better workers in order to retain their services. Either that or bring back the volunteers with their old deal in place. Really, which option would be cheaper?

I say this because the turnover for SA workers (in the kitchen and elsewhere) is staggering. When you recruit groups of substance abusers off the streets, or repeat offenders from prison you're basically getting the quality of service you pay for. Many of these guys have a serious f**k-all attitude which leads them into disputes/fistfights, constant tardiness (if they show up at all) and careless work habits. The tardiness has gotten bad enough that SA has instituted a harsher policy: First time is a warning; second time 50% of gratuities are taken; third time, you spend a week in the common dorms; fourth time you're dismissed from SA entirely. A number of my fellow clients think the new rules are too stringent. I disagree; how can you expect to hold a job if you're habitually late?

There are certain meetings SA clients are required to attend: The daily 'roll call' from 7:45-8:00 which consists of attendance being taken, followed by a reading from the AA handbook and a group recitation of the Lord's Prayer. It may sound fairly rote but punishment for missing them is severe: miss 3 roll calls and you're discharged from SA. (If you're scheduled to work during roll call you're excused.) There's a monthly client-staff meeting where relevant news is announced and everyone has a chance to air gripes if they want to; complaints usually have to do with TV privileges or why isn't there more desserts offered at meals (one reason is because the kitchen staff eats so many sweets when they first arrive that there's not much left over for anyone else. Not me, of course.

We also have the occasional unscheduled staff-client meeting that usually takes place after an inordinate amount of misbehavior occurs (arguing, fighting, or bad work habits). A recent meeting concerned the aforementioned tardiness and the importance of treating the vocational program as a training program for the 'real world'. There was a heartfelt message for clients not to sneak foods into their rooms because the SA vocational program is basically broke and can't afford to hire an exterminator.

The idea that the SA vocational program is on its last legs was hammered home repeatedly. Maybe it was a scare tactic, but who knows? I do have to wonder when I've heard SA is a $4 billion/year enterprise; they cant divert some of that cash toward a worthwhile rehabilitation program? Supposedly, the program might be discontinued in the near future. That's why one caseworker pleaded, “Get yourself a backbone ... not a wishbone.” It is true that a lot of guys here seem to treat the program more as a vacation, not a springboard to a new life.

A case in point would be a young kitchen worker I referred to as the Illustrated Man because of all his tattoos. IM didn't show up for work his first day, then proceeded to be late at least 50% of his scheduled days. One memorable episode involved him arriving 30 minutes late, then begging the manager for some breakfast because he was so hungry. The manager grudgingly obliged with the understanding that IMIM announced he had to go pick up some medication and took off. He didn't return for the rest of the day.

The day after the aforementioned 'backbone' meeting, IM was discovered in a compromising position with a female client in a third floor room. Both clients were summarily dismissed. I knew the female client but didn't know she had such lousy judgment. I didn't know IM at all, but at least he went out with a bang (I think).

April 4^th is important because it marks the CSN culinary course graduation dinner. In other words, no more school. I'll go down to 24 hours (3 days/week) in the kitchen and will search t employment the rest of the time. I've already begun some research on which companies to apply to and have visited a few establishments I might like to work at. But again, the big news is that school is done.

Ironically, this second part of the course has been more enjoyable than the first, due largely to the fact that my new teammates are far more compatible than Rain Man and Pitbull. But I'm still looking forward to moving on. Still, that doesn't mean that school is completely out of my life. The experience at CSN has been enjoyable enough that I'm considering returning there to finally complete a degree in art. Might be nice to finish something I started umpteen decades ago.

More on this as it develops. For now, that's a wrap!

HINJFCA XXV: 25th Installment Special!

What's the 'Special?'  I dunno.  More like a surprise, really; that is, I've actually managed to write 25 installments of this thing.  A surprise in that I'm still with the Salvation Army vocational program and still hanging tough in the culinary course at CSN. A surprise that I've managed to keep any semblence of my sanity during one of the most stressful periods of my life.  A surprise that it the light at the end of the tunnel may not signify an oncoming locomotive after all, but and actually and to this journey.  And the beginning of another one.  But before I get too misty eyed over my trials and tribulations, let us get caught up on a few events that have transpired since we last met.

Tensions tend to run high amongst the students in my culinary garde manger class.  Despite the fact that our graduation is only a few weeks away (April 4th, with a spring break included) I sense a lot of trepidation amongst my classmates.  My guess is that a lot of them are wondering -- and worried -- about their job prospects, especially those with long rap sheets.  While that is not one of your humble narrator's concerns, he is nonetheless becoming antsy about procuring work in a field in which he has, like, zero experience.  I'll keep you updated, of course.

The tension erupted into a all-out 'event' a few nights ago.  During our ride back to SA, we were treated to the serenades of AJ, who you might recall is an extremely outspoken large black woman and parolee.  Her obnoxious behavior is irritating to many of us, but we find it pointless to confront her about it.  She's one of those people who feels she's justified in whatever behavior she indulges, not matter how adversely it may affect her classmates.  As she warbled r&b songs throughout the drive, you could hear grumblings from those of us in the van.  The alleged singing was often punctuated by outbursts of her loud, grating laughter.  No one knows why she was laughing.

Upon heading into the SA offices (culinary students must place their knives in a central holding area, presumably to offset the chance of any random stabbings or renegade cooking), AJ continued to sing so loud that it was difficult to hear anyone else.  This was when another classmate -- one of my roommates, in fact commented, "Too bad we can't hear anything for all the goddam singing back here!"  This was the spark that lit AJs fuse.  "Yeah. that's too bad," she shouted back.  "That's just too f**king bad!"

Walking Pieces of Flesh

My roommate (call him RM1) is the sort who likes to needles people for the hell of it.  For example, one of his greetings is, "Geez, You have it made.  You don't have any problems, do you?"  Or he might try to provoke a response with, "What do you know about work?  You've had it easy.  I'm the only one who's ever had a hard life."  The hard life reference also turns up in comments like, "I'm sorry I'm such an asshole.  I've had a hard life."  Or to a female (usually):  I've had such a hard life.  You should let me rub Vicks VapoRub all over your chest." (No endorsement of said product unless Vicks elects to compensate me.)

With his dry delivery, it's not always easy to tell if RM1 is being serious or not.  As you might imagine, this has landed him in varying amounts of hot water since I've known him.  For the record, RM1 is a 48-year old white guy, overweight but not grossly so, and stands about 5'8.  Most would agree he has an outgoing personality and is friendly enough.  He tells me he's had a lifelong drinking problem and has been through countless rehab programs..  From what I can tell, he has spent the last several years in and out of various programs and has logged most of that time in SA.  While he claims to be seeking a cure, he also says he finds the compulsory AA meetings so boring that he usually spends his time texting throughout.

While I do like him and find him an agreeable roommate (I've heard a few horror stories about roommates from hell; remind me to tell you about them sometime) he does have a penchant for bizarre behavior and for making puzzling comments.  An example would be his habit of entering a room and spouting gibberish.  Something like "Shizbot pakum, flizzbet" with a delivery in a high-pitched 'alien' voice.  After which he immediately says, "What?" as if he didn't say it.  Other variations are RM1 suddenly bursting out singing gibberish, then commenting, "What the hell was that?"

A Thong To Remember

I find it funny up to a point.  RM does have a tendency to over do it.  As with certain 'catchphrases' like "Are you sick of it?" That one got overdone to the point that I told him to come up with new material. Or referring to fellow SA clients by saying, "Why can't someone just make all these walking pieces of flesh disappear?"  His longest running bit had to do with an apparent fixation on thongs.  While working, he would come up to you and mutter, my thong is on too tight; he would also blurt this out while sitting in the room.  Or he might announce, "Who can imagine me in a silver thong right now?  Seriously, I wanna know."

Another time-honored bit is his habit of sidling up to you with an impromptu 'thong song'.  This might go something like, "Hit me in my thong until your tits explode."  Or, "Bust me in the face until your thong's too tight!  What?"

Along with the laughs, RM 1 does have a dark side which can appear without notice.  This can manifest with certain statements about injuring people he perceives as ignoring him, or think are above him in some capacity.  He seems to be overly sensitive to criticism.  He'll often say things like, "The next time (he) says that to me or acts that way, I'll tell him, 'look motherf***er' you think you're so bad, let's go outside and settle it. But you won't do it 'cause you're too much of a bitch.'  That's what I'll tell him.  He thinks he can pull that s**t with me, but I ain't the one, bro'."

Then there's his obsession with online chat rooms/websites which leads to him constantly carry his phone while texting.  Even while working he has to break away and text.  He often talks about how he's met one woman or another in various states like Kentucky or Indiana and how well they get along.  He had a long relationship with a woman and her two kids.  They never met; the relationship was conducted entirely over the phone and texting.  It's amazing to me that there's a kind of subculture who meet, 'fall in love', 'get engages' and, I guess, even 'married' over the Internet.  I'd often he RM arguing with a woman about how she should respond to other guys online if she's his (alleged) 'finace'.

The relation ship with the woman and children ended badly, however.  While he often talked to the kids about how he wanted to meet them, marry their mom and start a new family, he neglected on detail:  He was living in a SA dorm, had no job, and no money.  When he finally revealed this to her, she was understandably upset and finally cut communication with him.  His response?  "It figures.  All these goddam women are the same.  They ain't serious.  I really thought she was special, too.  Stupid f***in' bitch."  Yes, the man does have issues.  But hey, I never said he was perfect.

Can't We All Just Get Along?

Just wanted to let you have some insight to RM1, as I'd been meaning to do so for some time.  Anyway, AJ had just shouted, "That's too f**kin' bad!"  To which RM1 shouted, "Nobody wants to hear your stupid singing.  Shut the f**k up!

AJ:  Come make me shut the f**k up, then!
RM1:  Shut up before I bust you in the mouth!
AJ:  You gonna bust me in the mouth?  Do it then, bitch!  I fight men!  I'll kick your ass!
RM1:  You wanna act like a man, I'll treat you like a man if you don't shut up!
AJ:  Oh, well!  Oh, well!  Oh, F***IN' WELL!"

(About this time a female security guard happened by and managed to stand between AJ and RM1.  RM1 actually settled down, but AJ maintained her tirade, essentially shouting in the guard's face as RM1 and the rest of us walked through the doorway to another room.)

AJ:  The f**k you talkin' about, I'm too loud?  Who you, anyway?  I ain't motherf***in' loud!  You gonna fight me, come on back here, then!  I'll kick your motherf***in' ass to the curb!  Yeah, that's right!  You ain't nothin'!  Keep on walking, bee-yatch!"

Things finally quieted down, statements were taken, and everyone dispersed.  In the room afterward, RM fretted about his actions, claiming that he was only joking and didn't think AJ would take him seriously; things just got out of hand.  He also claimed he and AJ made up, apologizing to one another and hugging it out.  Maybe so.  But RM1 was still summoned to see the caseworkers the next day.  He learned that he would be on probation for the next two weeks.  That means he is essentially exiled to the A/B Dorms (the one with all the bunk beds that I stayed at initially) but still must report for kitchen duty and culinary classes.  He'll still retain meal  and laundry privileges, but can't stay in his room in the vocational dorm.

For all its drawbacks, the vocational dorm where I stay is vastly preferable to the other set-up.  The fact that SA views this as a punishment should tell you a lot.  It was thought that AJ would receive a similar punishment despite her protestations that she didn't do anything wrong (both parties were guilty of course).  But we'll have to wait and see with AJ.  Earlier this morning she suffered a seizure of some sort and fell over.  Ambulances arrived and took her to a nearby hospital with her boyfriend (a fellow client and classmate) along for the ride.  As of this writing I don't know how serious her condition is.

When I mentioned the happenings to RM1 he said, "Great.  They'll probably try to blame that on me, too.  (sighs)  Niptok duzzleflarb acto. What the hell was that?!"

So, after 25 installments of HINJFCA you might ask your humble narrator:  What's the most important thing you've learned thus far?  Easy.  My wrists get really cramped after all this damn typing.  For now, that's a wrap!

HINJFCA Part XX4: When The Fan Hits The S**t

I've been busy of late, what with working at the Salvation Army , going to culinary class and battling a particularly vicious flu bug which seems to have migrated from my bowels to my chest like it was on Sherman's March to the Sea.  A big gripe about dorm living:  Why can't these sick, thoughtless bastards simply keep their malevolent microbes to themselves?

Let me take a few moments to proffer some updates in the ever-changing life of your humble narrator.  Graduation day for our culinary class is fast approaching.  That means we have to get serious about resumes and going out there in the "real world" to find j-o-b-s.  Because if we don't comply, SA then exercises its right to scatter us back to the streets from whence we came (or prisons for those on parole).  I've written a resume and have been submitting some online apps, but we don't have to 'officially' start the job hunting process until April 5.

Some of my classmates have already started their searches.  My ex-teammates in culinary class have had varying degrees of success thus far.  Rain Man seems to think he has an inside shot at a gig with the local Applebees.  Pitbull, though is the first to actually score a job.  He was accepted for service at Zion National Park as a cook and starts on April 11.  Good for him.  I've also considered working in the national parks/resorts system.  However ...

There are a few things I'm not crazy about re this sort of work.  These are often seasonal positions, although PB thinks he'll go year-round.  You still have to live in dorm-like settings: shared rooms, bathrooms, etc.  As stated, I hate dorm living.  No individual TVs allowed,  Often non-existent cell phone service due to the secluded areas.  You also have to pay your own way to and from the location.  For those reasons, I'm putting this sort of work on the back burner.  I'd rather have my own place and do what I like, when I like (and with whom I like to do it.)

Did you notice I referred to RM and PB as 'ex-teammates'?  Look, your humble narrator is an easygoing lad and his patience is legendary.  But everything has its limit and so does his patience.  Simply put, I got tired of seeing my 'teammates' doing all the work (including mine) while I was relegated to standing around and basically doing the dishes.  When I told them how I felt, it wasn't met with much enthusiasm and eventually turned into a shouting match inside the CSN kitchen lab with another class observing.  Let it be known your humble narrator simply tried to state his case while RM provided the shouting.  In the end, he only made himself look bad as was noted by several onlookers.  As for me?  My behavior was described as calm and reasonable.

The upshot was a meeting between myself, RM and two caseworkers.  In retrospect, it was not unlike meeting a divorce counselor as the caseworkers mainly nodded with indulgence and turned from RM to myself saying things like, "And did that happen?" or "How did you feel about that?"  Well, your humble narrator took the opportunity to put on a little show.  Nothing excessive mind you, but I made sure to let RM know I found his behavior to be little more than a petty annoyance; that I thought I had left this stuff behind in junior high school; and that I had little patience with such juvenile antics.  In fact, I found his behavior not unlike "a full grown man acting like a child and throwing a tantrum."

He wasn't throwing any tantrums that day, nor offering much in the way of a defense.  His face looked puffy and I wondered if he was forcing back tears.   Not necessarily  because of what I said but because he was frustrated at his situation.  I mentioned before that I found RM to be potentially dangerous because he doesn't exhibit a great amount of self-control.  It could be due to his retention of an institutional (read prison) mentality where he could get away with such tactics.  Or maybe it's just a character flaw.

It comes down to this:  Everyone is good at something.  Guys like RM might be good with slinging food but I'm pretty proficient with words and how to use them -- especially when it comes to speaking.  Simply put, had it been a boxing match I would've scored a 1st round knockout.  At the end, I added one final bit of discomfort for RM:  I made a grand gesture of offering my hand and saying I'm willing to be friends if he is.  Ha!  You should have seen the look on his face.  He didn't want to shake my hand, of course, which was plainly evident.  But he had to because the two caseworkers were right there.  I wanted them to see his reaction when I made the gesture.  In fact, I was hoping he'd refuse to shake my hand; that would've been the icing on the cake!

For now RM is still put out.  So be it. Interestingly, he had another argument with a different co-worker yesterday in the SA kitchens.  This resulted in another set-down with RM and the newly affected party.  My guess is he has some sort of personal problem(s) that are eating at him, accounting for this argumentative behavior.  Still, two outbursts within a week that require meetings with the higher-ups?  Not good.  As I've often said you can have all the technical know-how in the world.  But how successful can you be if you can't make people want to work with you?

I finally managed to switch teams by going directly to our new instructor, Chef Y.  When I explained my frustration, he readily agreed to the switch and it was made that same night.  I think he'd noticed the tensions in our group and how much of the assignments RM and PB seemed to do on their own.  It wasn't a team per se.  It was two guys and me.  Well, now I'm on a team that better compliments my personality and it looks like this switch will work out best for everybody.  Actually I seemed to gain some points from my other classmates because I managed to pull of the switch.  You see my friends, never mess with a small bald man who knows how to make words cut like a sword!

Time is winding down, more updates later.  That's a wrap!

Try this link for a One Way flash to the disco past!

HINJFCA XX3: The Awesome Aftermath

I won't keep you in suspense.  For my culinary cooking final grade I scored an 86 overall, or a 'B'.  I was surprised to say the least; I was expecting something in the C or D range.  Seeing that B actually made me feel a trifle guilty and relieved at the same time.  My relief is obvious; I'm now assured of gaining the college credit for which I primarily took the course.  But my guilt?  That might need a bit of explanation.

See, I skated by with a minimum of effort.  Really, I don't enjoy the process of cooking, so it's kind of a hassle every time I enter the kitchen lab.  To be honest I simply didn't hand in or complete certain assignments.  And to be honest, I didn't do all that great on the written final (if the Chef hadn't allowed us 20 minutes of open book reference, I would have been totally cooked).  But the reason I feel guilty is because had I put forth some more effort, I might have gotten a B+, maybe even an A/A-.  The difference between an A and B can be worth thousands of dollars if/when you apply for a grant.

This is the way I've always been, though, at least when it comes to school.  You know the old cliche about a student 'not applying himself'?  That's me.  I've always done just enough to get passing grades, at least when it came to subjects I didn't like.  And as you know by now I little affinity or aptitude for the culinary arts.

So it did come as good news when my caseworker addressed my concerns on this matter:  Namely, how am I expected to get a job in a restaurant when I really suck at cooking?  That's one of the catches about this Salvation Army culinary program.  Upon graduation you're expected to be a cook of some sort (which makes sense since other peoples money has been invested in you to do just that).  However, I was told -- off the record, of course -- that the main requirement can be tweaked to read thusly: The graduating student must obtain a job in a food and beverage establishment.  I like that interpretation a tad better, don't you?

Other student in my class did well enough, considering their skill level and aptitude (or lack thereof).  My roommate  (who was convinced he would fail and that life as he knew it was over) scored a C.  He was visibly relieved and remarked, "Those f**king assholes, I think I deserved a C+!"  Can't satisfy some folks, I guess.  Other students ranged from the B+ to C range.  I don't think anyone got lower than a C-.  If so, they didn't admit it (I don't blame them). 

Only two students got A's:  My teammate Rain Man and a girl I'll refer to as Ms Moodswing (MM) due to the emotional highs and lows incurred by her numerous medications.  She's the attractive girl who once told us all about her druggie days that ranged all over Sin City.  I was surprised to learn my other teammate, Pitbull, scored a B+; I expected him and RM to come in 1-2 in grading.  I think PB might have had some points for professionalism knocked off because he got into loud arguments with a couple of other classmates.  Otherwise he seems like one of the more adept student in the class.

(Sidebar about PB:  Some of his behavior is likely due to strong medication for depression and anxiety among other ailments.  He takes 1000mg of some potent pill; I don't know what it does but he said, "Man, I've got so much s**t going on I need something to mellow me out."  Sounds like a dosage fit for a depressed elephant.  You may also recall that PB has a bit of a racist streak (his arguments were with black classmates).  Here's something to consider:  Recently I saw him drive to the SA campus with his mother in the shotgun seat and a guy riding in the back. I know his parents are divorced, so the guy in the back was mom's boyfriend (this was later corroborated for me by an independent source).  When they got out of the car, he hugged his mother and stiffly shook hands with the boyfriend -- a black man.  Connect the dots.)

This new phase of the culinary course is conducted by a short, heavyset Filipino guy we'll call Chef Y.  He seems pleasant enough and explained to us that he has 10+ years experience as a professional chef before he became a teacher at CSN.  Interestingly, he was a chemical engineer before turning to cooking, his true choice of career;  this seems to be a fairly commonplace story among the cooks and chefs that I've met thus far.

The focus in Chef Y's class is primarily on preparation of cold dishes, which I actually find somewhat interesting.  We're also working on things like sandwiches (the little artsy-fartsy kind that look like sculpture) and breakfast foods.  For instance, your humble narrator made his first ever poached eggs the other night; I never even knew what they looked like before.  Eggs have been a key point thus far, but I've never been able to eat them unless they're scrambled.  I've never gone for whole yolks in my eggs because they look like great, yellow eyes staring back at me.  Go figure.

We had a meeting for culinary students recently concerning our final exam.  It's actually going to be a grand finale dinner of sorts that we prepare for a selected guest list.  The dinner occurs on our final day as students (April 4).  It'll be a long day, beginning at 5-9am in the SA kitchens, then 10-?pm at the CSN campus where the repast will be completed.  After that, it's everyone for themself in terms of the ensuing job search.  A caseworker kept noting that this is the last time "you'll ever work as a team." 

That didn't exactly cause anyone to shed tears.  In fact, this same caseworker told me (off the record, of course) that my class was the worst they'd seen in terms of cooperating with each other.  It was also noted that some students like RM have already begun their job searches.  RM in fact seems confident he's already got a gig lined up at a local restaurant and plans to move out the day following graduation.
 
Well, he has a lot of years in the culinary field.  I expect my job search will take longer, but I am starting to scout around potential places for employment and have begun to fill out applications online.  I was talking with a fellow student about our post-graduation plans, and what positions(s) we might be interested in.  He told me he thought I would make a good manager.  Not to brag, but a couple of other people have told me that as well.  I obviously take it as a compliment.  But when I mention that I have no experience in this field and am not particularly adept at cooking they often say something along these lines:

Any establishment you go to will likely train you from the ground up because they want you to learn their system.  Even grads from noteworthy culinary institutions like Cordon Bleu don't start off as chefs.  Most likely they'll start off washing dishes because the management wants to see who is dependable and who is willing to do the work.  Only after they're convinced of your solid work ethic (or lack thereof) will they start training you for a certain position.

Another bit of philosophy I've been hearing time and again from those with management experience:  The best managers aren't always the ones with the most technical know-how.  The best managers are the ones who make their employees want to work for them.  I've seen this play out even in the SA/CSN culinary course.  My teammates RM and PB, as noted, are among the most proficient students in the program.  But I've also come to realize that, on a personal level, they are not particularly well thought of as individuals. 

I know this because I tried to switch teams with some other people in my class.  While they all respected the skills of RM and PB, no one was willing to switch positions with me.  Basically, it boiled down to the fact that no one wanted to work with RM or PB.  Now view that in managerial terms -- do my teammates evince the quality of making people want to work for them?  From what I've seen, RM is so convinced of his skills that be can hardly brook any disagreement, even to the point of contesting the chefs opinion when they point out a mistake he made.  He does tend to be thin-skinned and impatient.  PB likely comes off too abrasive for people to warm up to.

And then there's your humble narrator, who seems to get along with everyone.  Am I really such a great guy?  Not necessarily.  I'm just to lazy to get agitated and argumentative with anyone; personally, I find such aggravation a waste of my valuable energy.  And besides, I'm not looking to get punched out.  Anyway, maybe I'll raise my sights and expectations a bit higher.  Who knows, maybe I can 'charm' myself into a decent position (one that hopefully does not involve grabbing my ankles).

'You Made God Angry'

The other night I was talking with a fellow student in the SA client dining room when a strange-looking fellow ambled in.  He appeared to be in his mid-late 60s, was dressed in tattered clothes was bald headed with a bushy gray beard, and at over 6 feet tall appeared to weigh about 135lbs.  He looked like a homeless scarecrow.  As he walked to the microwave to heat up a can of soup I was about to make a sarcastic comment to my classmate when his face lit up and he jumped out of his seat, ran to the strange guy and said, "Hi, Clay!"

Turns out my classmate knew this guy from earlier encounters on the street.  As I discovered, Clay is something of a homeless celebrity, having been featured in local newspaper write-ups, and on local TV coverage of the homeless problem.  Some of this media attention led to his getting an apartment and all kinds of donated food, clothes, and apparently lots of money.  I don't know why he's at SA right now, but he said something about accepting these donations that stuck with me throughout the night.  I'll pass it along to you.

Clay said that in his 15+ years on the streets, he once lived in a broken down van near a church in Bakersfield.  The minister and his wife would occasionally bring him food and vital supplies.  They passed on his story to a local business owner who arranged for Clay to get a job, and apartment, and the chance to start over.  But Clay turned it down.  He said he just didn't want to give up his freedom (on the streets).  he later saw it was a selfish thing to do.

Later, the minister's wife stopped by the van and told him he'd have to leave.  They thought he was ready to leave the streets, but apparently they were wrong.  Clay had never seen the minister's wife so angry.  When he asked why she was so harsh, she explained. "You made God angry.  Someone tried to give you a blessing.  When you refuse someone's blessing, God won't bless them."  By refusing someone's blessing (gift, donati on, etc), you rob them of the chance to be blessed by God.  I had honestly never thought of that.

Clay said that every since he has always graciously accepted any gift (help, assistane etc.) offered to him.  In that way he is blessed and so is the person offering the gift.

Makes me wonder how many gifts/blessings I have turned down over my lifetime.  How many times have I refused offers of help or assistance because  of pride or a willingness to admit my weaknesses?  And how many people were robbed of their own blessing due to my refusal?  Guess you could say that when you count your blessings, you should count the blessings of others as well.

That's a wrap!