Art and the Homeless

In the aftermath of Hurricane Andrew (1992), the township of Homestead, Florida was a shambles. A lifelong resident of Chicago, where—other than cultural reminders of The Great Fire—nothing compares to the effect of a hurricane and, between jobs and with little to do, plus complete discretion over personal movement, it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to survey a disaster. Friends advised checking-in with The American Red Cross upon arrival. Arriving a month after the hurricane made landfall essential services were restored without apparent disruption. Those who meant to stay, stayed, and those who didn't had not returned. The heroic phase of the relief effort had passed. It was still far from normal. Accommodations were to be had in Miami. For an avid camper it was a new challenge. That notion was quickly revised as the ancient vagrancy laws had been put into effect by the local constabulary.  Understandably, as residents, they resented the apparent disregard for the suffering of t...

After almost 300 years, Daniel Defoe's Journal of the Plague Year: Being Observations or Memorials of the most Remarkable Occurrences, as well Publick as Private, which happened in London during the Last Great Visitation in 1665. Written by a Citizen who continued all the while in London. Never made public before (1722), exhibits striking parallels with the Covid 19 pandemic—which is not yet over. As of today, the Covid 19 pandemic is going on two years. The government's health response has barely slackened. The public—those not afflicted—has become accustomed to it. Defoe's history serves as a reminder how used to dire conditions we have become. It gives one a feeling of having been here before. We have come far, since the initial panic swept the world and—as those who forget the past are fated to repeat it—life goes on without any assurance of being prepared should it return.  Not everyone fails to see the approach of danger—or faulted for being slow to react. Upon first...

News stories about beggars with bank accounts are not news. If it's bull, the publisher is doing nothing wrong. Every generation must lose its innocence about this and, like a rite of passage—it's that time again. The slow news story of the day is a report of beggars with money in the bank. It panders to the resentment everyone feels about paying income tax. The insinuation is that begging is income, it should be reported—as should all charitable giving. Legitimate not-for-profits must, of course, report contributions as income. The implication is, if small donations are not reported as income—or deducted as charity, charity itself is suspect. It is the appearance of hiding income behind a wall of anonymity—whatever the sum involved. No, it's not a Federal case, but it is a matter of principle. More to the point: it's a matter of conscience. To be sure, we're talking about petty sums—single digits. But consider an analogy. Suppose the local shopkeeper charged State...

Before a certain age Diabetes was not a pressing concern of mine. It was one of many vague hazards in the background. When acquaintances of about my age were heard to complain of it, I listened, took notice of their tone of desperation, and raised the threat level to just below maximum. A cursory review of the published facts on the syndrome confirmed my heightened awareness. I heeded the published advice to eliminate consumption of sugar entirely, reduce as far a possible the simple carbs, and monitor control of other contributing factors.   Recently, one such casual acquaintance—who had disclosed to me that he had been diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes—offered to me an update on his progress. He had just been “released,” as he put it, from six days of hospitalization to reduce his blood/sugar level. I did not say so, of course, but I found it absurd. Never mind the cost. Give thanks for the most generous—as well as the very best in every respect—medical care in the world. It was the...

In Arthur Conan Doyle's book The Sign of the Four, Sherlock Holmes self-administers Cocaine by hypodermic needle injection under Watson's observation. The reader may infer that Watson probably obtained the drug for Holmes to use. What is questionable is the propriety of Watson's procedure. Readers without first-hand knowledge of the illicit use of controlled substances, such as Cocaine, will suppose Holmes was wise to "experiment" under qualified observation. Indeed, it comports with the enlightened view of drug abuse as a medical issue. Compare the present day medical exemption for Marijuana use and possession.  Holmes's complaint stemmed from boredom. Cocaine provided relief. Do I hear quackery? Unless Holmes was being anesthetized for nose, ear, and throat surgery, how can Watson justify it use? If it is an ethical gray area, it is a more interesting case than the fictional crime investigation narrated in the book. Consider the damage done by Holmes to his...

It is easy to dismiss the chronic problem of homeless street people as a handicap, nobody's fault, an innate defect—of common sense. The beggar on the street can be given a token of shared humanity, but that doesn't even address the problem, let alone solve it. Eventually it will be considered judgmental to think about homelessness as a problem at all—unless it my problem. I am interested in the cause of the problem, in what leads someone to these extreme straights.  In street people this information does not lend itself to discovery. Many cannot provide proof of identity. Verbal testimony is not lacking. It is unreliable. Some don't know—or make up what is forgotten. All are defensive. For personal histories of individuals who suffer at the hand of fate, a written record of the cause of decline is wanted—for peer review. That, for purposes of insight, makes it a social problem—not a private matter. What drives men of every strata to the extreme of abandon? We have as testa...