The short answer to that question is: I didn’t have anything else to do. But the long answer is much more interesting. You see, I had been at a homeless shelter for more than a year. A car accident put me out of commission and the jobs I could get were drying up because of the recession. After a year in that place, I got together with the director of the shelter and mentioned to him my idea of writing about what I thought were the problems that caused so much homelessness in our particular state. It wasn’t the recession, it was deeper than that.
Well, to make a long story short, my little opinion piece made it into the shelter’s newsletter and about a week after it was published, many volunteer associations that provided meals to the shelter refused to show up. I kind of figured out the situation, because, the director started to avoid me too. Bad news. Pretty soon the shelter staff (who no doubt missed their free meals provided by the volunteers) got together and squeezed me out. No prob, I thought. There was another shelter in town, so I figured I’d move to that one if the going got too tough on the streets. Ha. That’s when I found out that the shelters in our dear city will not let you voluntarily move out of one and into another. I was shut out of both of them. So much for free speech and equal rights.
On the streets it was tough. But I dug up my laptop out of storage and began writing. It was an outlet. A way to tell my story and the stories of others. It was a way to laugh, and have the last laugh. So, here it is: Brain Sections.