“Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him well…”

For those of you who view me askance. Take another look.

I’m not down-and-out.

I’ve just never had a desire to own things. I mean beyond the necessities. A pad. A car. A stereo. Books. Maybe a knick-knack or two. A few nice cloths. That’s it. That’s all I’ve ever desired. Enough things to make my apartment in The City feel cozy…and sufficiently pleasant to attract the Broads. But that was then. I no longer live in The City. I no longer chase Broads.

Therefore, I need way less stuff.

Most people I know own a mountain of stuff they never use. I don’t know why. All I can figure, owning a lot of things makes you feel good. At night you say your prayers, tuck yourself in bed, and lay there thinking about your stuff. Your possessions are a kind of safety net. Like a squirrel tucked in atop his nest of acorns. You’re provisioned. Of course this only works if all the stuff you own is paid off. For me, owing money on stuff I hold in my possession is worse than having nothing. It’s a headache. That’s the bind most people are in. Why own a brand new car you don’t own? By the time you got it paid off the heap is barely worth the effort it takes to sell it. But that’s just my opinion. I’m not normal. I’m a Minimalist. So I guess I don’t really understand what I’m talking about here. Maybe it all comes down to people needing to feel equal to other people…or at least not feel inferior to the guy next door who owns nice stuff.

Still, sooner than later, owning stuff becomes a burden. Meaning you gotta figure out who to leave it to. You’ll soon be a bleached skull, like Yorick. He’s the neighbor of yours with the nice shit. And what about your shit? Unload it on bickering Heirs? Cut out the ones you dislike.

Well, you gotta leave it to somebody. Otherwise the Government will take it. And nobody seems to like the Government these days.

For the record, I’m not exactly down-and-out

Not that I give a damn one way or another. But occasionally I get the feeling I’m being judged for my minimalism. People rate you by how wealthy you are. It doesn’t make any sense to me. Owning shit makes you a superior person? That’s absurd. Here’s what’s even worse. Lots of people figure if you don’t live under a roof with a street out front you are down-and-out. Meaning you’re a bum. I could be a bum if I like. It’s my business. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being a bum. Maybe you do. If you happen to be one of those people…

I can understand if you’re pissed off because you pay a shit load of taxes while a guy like me lives off the grid like a parasite. That’s a legitimate grudge. Why should you fund my lifestyle? Bust your ass sixty hours a week at some suck-ass job while I’m kicking back like Rip Van Winkle, snoozing, sipping wine, digging the fine weather with the birds singing in the trees. Tossing crackers at the Sea Gulls gliding in for a hand out…

Could be, this is what bothers you about me. If so it makes perfect sense. You have a legitimate Beef. You, like the Republicans who hold a nasty grudge against Welfare Mothers and those Old Dudes like me who’ve mastered the art of living on very little…you are at least making an argument that’s half-assed arguable.

If I was in your shoes I’d despise me too.

On the other hand, if I was in your shoes I’d give away all my shit and follow Jesus.

You could do that!

Jesus said unto him, If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come and follow me. Matthew 19:21

Or, say you don’t want to follow Jesus…just yet. You could sell all your shit and buy yourself a Recreational Vehicle. Become a Stealth Camper. Doing so would instantly erase all that Ire you hold for us good-for-nothings. That’s the ticket. Ease into the Following Jesus thing. No need to walk the land barefoot quite yet. I’m thinking I’ll start following Jesus about the time I find myself looking Hamlet in the eye, like old Yorick.

Could be I’m Down And In

Like I said, I’m not down and out.

I’m down…but not out.

That’s to say, I’m hanging in…

I’m what’s called Down-And-In!

I got a Pad. The Double Lotus. Plenty of living room for a minimalist. Cat 30 is well designed. Two berths. Beamy main salon. Stand up room for cooking, scratching your ass, etc. So I’m good. Electricity, water, garbage, runs me 25 bucks a month. Flat rate. Rent’s a little pricy at 500 bucks a month but for Sausalito it’s a steal. Shit. Anywhere these days it’s a steal. So I’m good. Actually, I’m better than good.

I got a back-up Pad. The Sienna.

Got the Sienna set up for Urban Camping. Not too bad a deal, actually, since I lived in it for six weeks while searching for my boat and I scoped out all the easy-peasy crash spots. Spots where the cops glide by in the night like you aint even there. Like you’re a tree or a shrub. Nothing to look at. Nothing to see. Just part of the landscape. Spots with lavatory accommodations open and welcoming around the clock.

Yes! That’s right. I got virgin stealth turf. Urban Camp spots nobody knows about. Almost nobody. If word gets out Sausalito has several ideal street camps available to anybody and everybody…anybody being AUTOMOBILE DWELLERS…if word gets out, well…it could get like this…

The above photo was taken in 2019. Cops ran these campers off. Campers came back. Cops ran them off again. Campers came back…again, and again, and again… This always happens when a Urban Camp spot becomes KNOWN.

Rather than, UNKNOWN….

All my spots are unknown….unknown to all except the few of us who know the stealth codes and keep them secret.

Like these folks:

You don’t see em cuz they’re in there. Blacked out. They honor and preserve the stealth codes. A nice family. Mom. Pop. Three kids. Sometimes the grandma shows up. They get up early and drop the tailgate. Whip up some mush on a butane stove. Then pack up their trash and split. All before 8 a.m.. It’s like they were never here. These folks work long hours as day laborers. They pay taxes. They’re not down-and-out. Yet they’re not exactly Down-And-In, either. Because they’re hiding from I.C.E. The I.C.E. troopers could get them. I haven’t seen them around lately.

I’ll check out their stealth spot. See if they dodged I.C.E.

Soon as the storm passes.