Being homeless

When I was in my early twenties, I once curled up and slept on the ground outside the back of a restaurant. The town was Bend Oregon and I had hitchhiked there to visit my sister Dawn.
The weather was cold that night as it often is in Eastern Oregon in the five months on either end of Winter.
I had other sleeping options that night. I could have called my sister and stayed with her. I also had a few bucks in my pocket and might have found a hotel to negotiate a rate that I could afford.
I decided though that this night I would like to experience what it is like to be homeless. To get an understanding what it is to be destitute and to be in a position to bring myself up from nothing.
You see at some time in my teenaged years, I had become intrigued with the notion of wanting to know what it would be like to be a self made person. To start life and succeed with no family support or friends to give a helping hand. To pull myself up from my shoestrings and make a go at life. No helping hand from government, no easy ride from your parents.
Well I had a good sleep but now have some kind of understanding that being homeless is more of a state of mind than a state of being without a roof over your head. I know that I do have a family to fall back on. The tax payer will likely be there if worse comes to worse. I can always manage to get a few bucks in my pocket because i was taught a work ethic.
It would take not knowing these things to really know what it is like to have nothing and truly be homeless and to bring myself up from nothing – if that is possible.

Teachers and students

So a teacher is someone who imparts or gives knowledge and a student is someone who has paid to learn from them.
Why is it when the student did not learn (as long as he or she wants to get what they paid for) the student gets the failing grade?
The student “fails” and gets a “Sorry, an F for you and no college or job to boot. It is your fault as I attempted to give knowledge but you didn’t understand it.”
Seems to me the teacher failed to give what they were paid for.

Thanks for the compliment

I took a demo on beer brewing the other day at a local home brewing supply store. I had been invited, as I am sure the other guests were invited, via an email invitation to attend. The demo was outdoors and a bit casual with a lot of people coming and going in the area. As it happened, the demo had already started before I had a chance to pay the $20 fee.

Since there was a long line at the cash register and I didn’t want to miss any instruction, I decided to listen in on the beer brewing demo and pay up when the line went down.

About an hour into the instruction, when the line was gone at the register and there was a break in the action, I approached the young woman working at the cash register and told her I needed to pay.

She smiled at me and said “Oh great, I like honest people”.

I took this to be meant as a compliment and I also inferred by the comment that it might not have been noticed if I had not paid.

I paid and then rejoined the demo. It seemed to be an interestingly odd comment from the young woman. Why did she feel the need to say that to me? Doesn’t everyone like honest people? Has anyone ever said or thought “I like dishonest people”.

After reflecting on the situation for a few days, I guess working at a cash register, a person would come into contact with dishonesty occasionally.

You see looking through my minds eye, I fumble through life assuming everyone thinks like me, acts like me, and is like me, when it comes to paying for goods or services. I am too mentally lazy and just not interested in trying to scheme about ways to get something for nothing. It is true that I was a bit of a petty thief when I was a juvenile, but I grew out of that with the help of a few applications of belt strap from my father.

So now thanks to what was meant as a compliment from the young woman at the cash register, my view of life and the people I come in contact with has changed a bit. I had better start keep an eye on my belongings when guests are at my home.