No Real Holiday For The Homeless

You probably see them, but don’t really notice homeless people. Maybe the occasional hitchhiker on the highway. But unless you drive through Mississippi or New Orleans and see the people living under the interstates, you can’t really imagine the number of people that have nowhere to live. In most cities, they are hidden, scattered and easy to ignore. But those people, even entire families without homes are growing in numbers, especially since Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf coast states.

If you haven’t given to a charity this year, it isn’t too late, and Christmas is the best time to do it. We are all overspending on our family, even if we are cutting back. None of us need any of that stuff, really. Not compared to a person without a place to sleep at night. Remember the movie “Trading Places?” How would a homeless person feel, looking around your house, at all your belongings? And how would you feel out there, with nowhere to go? For a lot of people, that is reality. There is no planning or thought of the future when all your concentration and energy is spent on survival. During the holidays, whichever one you celebrate, or just because it is cold outside, we should all donate enough to feed at least one family a Christmas dinner. It doesn’t cost a lot (compared to how much we can spend at Wal-Mart). Maybe we should forgo some of the extra expenses we put on ourselves this time of year. You know, the stupid stuff… like presents for our pets.

I spent a summer homeless. But I had advantages on some. I had friends with sofas and extra beds, and I had a car. It held everything I owned. I also live in the south, and since it was not winter, suffering was at a minimum. I was 19 years old. I was a loud, opinionated disappointment to my parents, a girl who would not be abused by her father, but was too dumb to know what could happen when you are alone with no place to be. Not everyone was ready to take advantage of me, but a few people tried. And it was harder WAY BACK in ’85… no one had cell phones. You get educated fast when all you have is your Mustang and some phone numbers … and then you have to hunt down a pay phone to call someone. The night is very dark when you know everyone else is comfortable and safe in their warm beds. It is the most lonely feeling there is.

But I also had taken a civil service exam, which led to a job at Social Securiy. That gave me the means to rescue myself. So many other people don’t have that kind of chance.

I see homeless people everywhere, mainly because I can spot them. Sometimes it is obvious… they carry everything they have in a backpack, but sometimes it isn’t something you can put your finger on. There just seems to be a desperation, or sadness, or apathy in their eyes… too exhausted or hungry to be bitter or envious. It is very hard to climb your way back into society and stay there. Homeless people are human, just like us, with our cars and apartments and internet. The only difference is some of us haven’t lost everything.

No one claims that a meal is going to change anyone’s situation or circumstance. But that holiday meal can be a reminder that people care. If you can’t afford to give financially, then go through your clothes and donate anything you haven’t worn in a year. Dress for Success is an excellent program that provides women the clothes and support they need to get back into the workforce after a life setback. If time is all you have to give, then you can volunteer.

There are many ways to make a difference in someone else’s life… During such a hectic time of overspending and materialism, we should take a moment to think about those who are really in need. While the rest of the world puts up Christmas trees, they are worried about the cold. 

So please share a little love somehow. I promise you won’t regret it.

Not Immune To Christmas After All

Finally I am starting to get in the Christmas spirit. I mean, since the displays and music and sales pitch began back in October, I wondered if they had ruined it for me totally. The commercials with the claymation figures from those old Christmas specials like “The Year Without A Santa Claus” really disturbed me. I’d love to be left alone with the brainiac who sold them out. I mean the HeatMeister and Rudolph are off limits, people. If I see Ralphie from “A Christmas Story” trying to sell Ovaltine, I’ll go postal. (But with pretty Christmas stamps!)

But when I noticed an urge to bake cookies and I realized that I did still have some holiday nostalgia in me. It just took awhile to kick in. After the summer heatwave and then the endless warm weather and fall colors, I wasn’t ready. But when I put Christmas wallpaper on my laptop I knew it was back with a jingle.

Part of it is putting up my tree… and all the ornaments I have. Each one has a story behind it. One is a little wooden doll in a rocking chair that I have had since first grade. A girl who shared my last name, and drew mine that Christmas, gave it to me. We later became best friends in elementary school. Every time I see it I wonder where she is now. I don’t know I managed to keep it all these years. Between the estrangement with my family, being homeless, and being burglarized a few times, I managed to lose almost everything from my youth that meant anything to me. Of course, over time I have learned that possessions are not as important as surviving, or experiences, or friendships, or memories. And it makes the few things I do have seem even more important.

This year, like last, I decorated the tree by myself. Last year, my husband was working in Ohio, and this year he was out Christmas shopping. That didn’t bother me. But it was the second year Dylan was too sick or tired from damned Crohn’s disease to help me. When he was little, it was the highlight of my Christmas… that and seeing his face after Santa came. Now it is bittersweet when he comes through after I’m done, and gives my effort two thumbs up. Every single year we’ve been together my husband declares our current tree the best one we’ve ever had. And in the sense that we’ve made it another year, it is. Every tree is a milestone. By my count, this is our 22^nd tree.

Where I really go all out is when I am wrapping presents. I think it appeals to the arts-and-crafts side of me, not to mention my stint years ago as a seasonal department store gift-wrapper. I remember leaving that job at 9:45 p.m. on Christmas Eve, my feet throbbing in my foolish choice of high heels, my car way down at the end of a 28 degree parking lot. But everyone’s packages looked damned good. That feeling of frozen, sore-footed accomplishment stuck with me. Only now I can do it in more comfortable foot-ware, if any, and the gifts I wrap are for people I love.

To me, that decorated tree just isn’t complete without shiny presents, draped in ribbon and bows stacked underneath. And when I stand back and watch the lights reflect off all the gifts, I get a sense of accomplishment. I am grateful for the ability to give. And I am prepared for the holiday, the celebration, the exchanging of presents, even the tolerance of certain family members. Proof that Christmas does have a little magic in it.

Now for those cookies….

Writer’s Strike? Bloggers Unite!

So now Conan O’Brian and Jay Leno are going back on the air. Without their writers. And under the contracts they hold with those writers, they cannot perform anything not written by them. That means improvisation. That could be great or it could suck.

They aren’t the only ones sick of the writers strike. Viewers all over the country are eating dinner with their family. Library check-outs are at an all time high! On a personal level, it has cost me over six weeks of “The Daily Show” and “The Colbert Report.” And now, the NBC Thursday night line-up has been affected. I have actually read three books, and thought about trying to play Bioshock on my husband’s Xbox 360 (gasp!)

So it is out of complete frustration and from knowing an opportunity when I see one, I am stepping up and offering to do my part. After all, I am used to being witty for free (my only reward for this blog are my blog stats and they don’t buy shit.) If being clever paid the bills, some of us could actually save for retirement!

Since I am not a member of the Screenwriters’ Guild, I technically cannot be a scab. Just unethical and opportunistic. And I would gladly write a hilarious episode of “My Name Is Earl” or help out at Comedy Central with The Daily Show or Colbert Report. Anything to stop the re-runs. I wouldn’t even mind watching any shows I had written, even though I would know the ending. Just imagine, one episode per blogger would solve this crisis through the year 2025.

Hollywood should give the bloggers a chance. We may just surprise them. How so many of us are just egotistical and ambitious, not to mention talented enough to do it. Our demands would probably remain pretty simple: give us credit and praise. Lots of praise. Hopefully, my controversial material would launch me and other star bloggers into 15 minutes of reality TV-like fame.

Or just give us our own show. Put us all in one house to live and call it “Big Blogger” or bring in Tyra Banks and make us compete against each other. Call that “America’s Top Blogger.”

Think I can’t form an opinion in the time it takes most people to unwrap a straw? Challenge me.

We can call that show “The Weakest Blog.”

You can see I have plenty of great ideas, so Hollywood, it’s your move. Hit me up on my blog.