The Adventure of Life itself

I want you to watch this video, it's only 3 1/2 minutes.  But I can't make you watch it.  So I'll just tell you a few things about Maya Angelou.  

Dr. Maya Angelou lived her life as an adventure.  That's why I immediately thought of her to find a video for this post.  At age 3 or 4, she, and her slightly older brother, were put on a train, and sent across the country, by themselves, to live with her grandmother in Arkansas.  She was raised in the harsh and financially poor reality of the deep south in the late 1920's and early 1930's.  

Living with her mom a few years later, she was raped by her mom's boyfriend at age 8.  The man was found beaten to death a couple days after she told her family what happened.  She stopped talking, thinking her voice, saying she be had been raped, caused his death, not his horrific act.  She lived as a mute for 4 years, and was sent back to Arkansas.  A woman there introduced the studious young Maya to poetry.  But the woman made Maya read the poetry out loud, to hear the beauty and rhythm that words could have.  Young Maya found her voice, again.

Dr. Maya Angelou is now best remembered as a poet, America's Poet Laureate, in fact.  Her life was far from "normal," whatever that is.  It's the great adventure that made her a great poet and a woman known for writing several memoirs, the most famous being I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.  It's also the adventure of her life that gives her such a quiet confidence, and wisdom, in her later years, evident in the short clip above.  

Emerging out of my own crazy childhood, as a young man, I interviewed BMXers and skateboarders for my zine, always asking them, "What is the meaning of life?"  My family was more dysfuctional than most, and less dysfunctional than some.  I was a fucking trainwreck at 18 or 19.  I didn't ask people for the meaning of life to sound philosophical.  I really wanted to know.  Life seemed to be mostly pain to me then.  What was the point of living in pain?  Why bother living when things seemed so miserable most of the time?  I needed to find the reason we were alive. 

By the way, the best answer I got to that question back then, came from then 19-year-old skateboarder Rodney Mullen.  When I asked him for the meaning of life, he simply said, "Kittens playing with yarn."  I thought that was the dumbest answer I ever heard when he said it.  But you know what, it's the only answer to the "meaning of life" question I remember.  You can find my short interview with Rodney in the December 1986 issue of FREESTYLIN' magazine, if you look here.

I spent the first 19 years of my life getting screwed up by a crazy family, one member in particular.  I spent the next 29 years of my life working through my own personal issues.  I finally found the answer I was looking for, about 5 years ago.  And that made all the difference.  It was a complete change of perspective.  I had to go through a fair amount of Hell to get there.  But, ultimately, the answer was worth it. 

Now, I see our lives on Earth, as an adventure our soul, our spiritual self, takes, to learn what it can in these heavy human bodies, on this planet governed by the laws of three dimensions.  My understanding now is basically what the wise people have said throughout the ages.  Our spirits, our individual souls, "sign up" for an adventure on Earth, much the way we might sign up for an adventure race, like a mud run, or a Spartan race.  People sign up for those races to see if they're tough enough, if they're up to the challenge presented.  It's the same for life itself.  We want to see if we're tough enough for the challenge of a life here on Earth.  But it's not just a race, there are incredible obstacles that will be set in front of us.  There are all kinds of stupid people to deal with.  There are also amazing people who help us along the way.  The obstacles of life are not just physical obstacles, but mental, and spiritual obstacles as well.

Imagine signing up for an adventure race where you had to run, and trek up steep hills, and crawl through mud, and climb over obstacles, but you also had to solve mental puzzles, and paint a painting, and play a musical instrument, and help other people get through the race.  All of those things counted as part of your placement at the end.  Then, and here's the kicker, as soon as you start the race, your memory is erased.  You drink a little cup of liquid at the start of this crazy adventure race, and it makes you forget that you actually chose to sign up for this race in the first place.  The next thing you know you're in this crazy race, with all these other people, facing tough obstacles, and you don't remember why you're there.

That's the adventure of life, as I see it.  Each of our souls signed up for an adventure, but by the time we are born into this world, we've forgotten we did this on purpose.  We find ourselves in this crazy, often painful and brutal world, and we forgot it's an adventure we signed up for.  Part of the adventure, is to get to the point that we remember... that's it's an adventure.  We signed up to see if we could make it through a series of challenges, and each person signed up for different challenges.  Everyone has their own unique path, and we have free will.  As we make choices, the adventures ahead shift and change, to force us to deal with certain issues, until we understand.

We are drawn to certain people at certain times, because this is part of our adventure.  They have something to teach us, and we have something to teach them, just by interacting with them.  This, as I see it now, is why we're alive and here on Earth. 

In this blog, I'll chronicle some little adventures I have, with words, photos, and maybe video, eventually.  I'll also write posts about some of the crazy adventures I've had along the way.  And I'll write a post every now and then about the Big Adventure, that of life itself, just to remind myself, and anyone reading, that's why we're here. 

Enjoy. 
Now go find a little adventure of your own, to have today.  Or maybe even a big one. 

Ghost Town L.A.: Los Angeles city and county during the Covid-19 shutdown- Part 5

 Downtown Los Angeles.  Empty.  March 2020.  A few days after the Covid-19 shutdown began.

 You can often see fairly empty train cars in on the Red Line train under L.A.  But you very rarely see a completely empty car.  March 2020.

 Blue Line train coming in, looking North up Long Beach Boulevard.  Never seen it anywhere near this empty, even late at night.  March 2020.

 Another angle, looking up Long Beach Boulevard in downtown Long Beach.

 Six weeks ago, you would have never expected to see a sign like this in front of your local grocery store.  Now we don't even notice these.  Rapid social change.  March 2020.

 Try getting a photo of this mural, anytime, without a person in the photo.  Downtown Los Angeles, empty.  March 2020.

Juxtaposition.  Downtown L.A.  Not a staged photo.  I just came out of the 7th & Metro train station, up to the surface, to see what downtown L.A. looked like during the shutdown.  Walking around, I cam across this scene.  Steve Emig photos.

Ghost Town L.A.: Los Angeles city and county during Covid-19 shutdown- Part 4

 Most places these days, Big Brother is watching.  Below Universal Studios in Studio City, Big Minion is watching.  See him up top?

 Wider view of the lower Universal Studios area, which is usually full of tourists, studio workers, and commuting workers.

 Ventura Boulevard in Studio City, looking west from Laurel Canyon.  This is an area of a few chain stores, and lots of boutique, trendy shops and restaurants.  This is also about three blocks from the CBS Studio lot, where I worked on the American Gladiators show, 25-29 years ago.  There is always traffic here, in normal times.  March, 2020.

 The 101 freeway, looking uphill from the Campo de Cahuenga exit.  On the other side of that little mountain is Hollywood.  This section of freeway is packed with traffic most of the day, normally.

Lankershim Boulevard, northern end of North Hollywood, a normally pretty busy business district.  March 2020.  Steve Emig photos.

Ghost town L.A.: Los Angeles city and county during the Covid-19 shutdown- part 3

 Robo Bathroom, as I call it.  In a park in North Hollywood, CA, March 2020.

For several days, I took a train to another stop, then walked about 3 blocks, just to take a dump.  Obviously, that's far from an ideal situation.  You press a button to go in these, either of two, single person bathrooms.  You press another button inside, and the door locks shut.  You have ten minutes to do your business, and the bathroom plays soft music while you poop.  One day it played an instrumental version of "Unforgettable."  Really.  That dump was very forgettable.  I keep saying, "Bathroom, play Social Distortion,"  but it never responds.  Room for improvement, if the Robo bathroom people are reading this. 

When your ten minutes is up, if you're still in there, the Robo Bathroom yells at you sternly to leave.  You have about another 1-2 minutes, then a full blown, police-type siren goes off.  I'm not kidding.  Like who the hell is going to come running to a park bathroom when the the siren alarms?  So I just come out, cussing out a building. 

Sometimes, if I'm lucky, it's fairly clean inside.  Usually the floor is pretty wet with God knows what fluids, and it's marginally nasty, but still better than a Porta-john.  Glad it exists, though, for now.

 Wide shot of the Robo Bathroom.  North Hollywood, CA, March 2020.

 When the sun finally came out, I was working on some writing, eating lunch, and social distancing, alone, on this park picnic table. Then I opened a pack of peanut butter crackers, and this guy (or gal?), showed up.  Obviously the squirrel didn't get the six foot distance rule. 

 The aggro squirrel.  Relentless in checking my bag for more peanut butter crackers.  I didn't feed it, and it WAS NOT happy about that. 

Ghost Town L.A.: Los Angeles city and county during Covid-19 shutdown- Part 2

 Usually crowded walkway, among the trendy apartments,downtown Long Beach.

 There's an old joke in the music industry.  "A rock musician plays three chords for 3,000 people, and a jazz musician plays 3,000 chords for 3 people."  That may be an exaggeration, but The Baked Potato in Studio City is one of those hardcore jazz clubs.  They're hoping to get back in business soon...  March 2020.

 One of the many car living people in this area.  I see this car every day or two.  Studio City, CA, March 2020.

 Homeless guy sleeping on an industrial-styled table, in front of a bar in downtown Long Beach.  Three or four other people in streets on that early morning.  March 2020.

 Close-up up of the bench sleeper.

Even Lucy is freaked out by the shut down.  Street art in downtown L.A.

Ghost Town L.A. County: Los Angeles city and county during the Covid-19 shutdown- part 1

Universal City Red Line train platform, early March, right after the Covid-19 response, social distancing, and "shelter at home" rules went into effect.  

As things worked out, I was homeless, and living primarily in the Studio City/North Hollywood area of the San Fernando Valley, when the Corona virus/Covid-19 pandemic struck Southern California.  This photo above is the first train stop north of Hollywood and Highland, the hotspot for Hollywood Hollywood tourists these days.  It's also the train stop where people get off to go to Universal Studios, one of the biggest tourist attractions in this area.  I travel through this station nearly every day now, and there are usually a couple dozen people on this platform, at any time.  Mornings and evenings, there are usually several dozen people here.  When I shot this photo, in early March, 2020, it was just me and a pigeon.

The rule came out in early March, 2020, to close "non-essential" businesses, and for people to "helter at home," to reduce the spread of this new, deadly disease.  It's hard to shelter at home, when I don't have a home.  In addition, as businesses shut down, us homeless people lost most of the bathrooms and small businesses we frequent for a whole bunch of reasons.  I've survived about ten years in various forms of homelessness, working most of that time.  But the Covid-19 business shutdowns was a hit I seriously wasn't sure I'd survive.  I literally thought I may die, not from the disease, but from the reaction and shutdowns due to the disease.

Homeless people do without most of the things most people call "necessities," every single day.  That's the nature of the situation.  We survive by using aspects of our world that have the things we need to simply survive day to day.  I didn't go to McDonald's for breakfast in the mornings just because I like their sausage biscuits.  For me, my favorite McDonald's was warmth from the morning chill, a shelter from the rain, a decent (usually) bathroom to use, a table to work on my laptop or draw the pictures I sell, a place to simply sit down, AND breakfast.  I suddenly lost all of those things, overnight.  The same happened to thousands of other homeless people, overnight. Trying to turn my art slowly into a legit small business is hard, especially while homeless.  Trying to simply keep working when I lost my workplace, bathrooms, power plugs (the library) and wifi, has been one hell of a little adventure.  I'm alive, simply ALIVE today, because a bunch of friends online have stepped up to help me get by, and because I'm fucking relentless, and keep going no matter what I get hit with.  Some friends bought a drawing (or several), some simply loaned/gave me a little money to help me eat, or buy a metro pass.  One made me some great stickers to start selling.

This was a very unplanned additional adventure.  You know, as if trying to continue building a small business from homelessness wasn't challenging enough.  That story is a post for another day.  But something else happened.  To simply stay warm, and out of the rain in the mornings and evenings, I had to ride buses or trains around.  Yes, that's the opposite of what everybody is supposed to be doing.  But us homeless were literally left out in the cold to die when the Covid-19 pandemic hit here.  The other option was trying to get into a homeless shelter, but because of the nature of this disease, it was obvious that homeless shelters would soon turn into death traps.  Living in a homeless shelter right now means 100% chance of being exposed to the virus, and a much greater chance of getting sick, and possibly dying, then continuing to live outside.  Check out the Cook County jail story in Chicago, for an example of how the virus explodes in a place where large numbers of people live in very tight quarters.  So I rode buses and trains to avoid the rain and chill, which hit right as the virus response hit. I could keep a few feet away from other riders, most of the time, and stay reasonably warm.

Because I was moving around the city and county of Los Angeles, and had an old iPhone5 as a camera, I soon realized that I was one of the few people who could document what parts of L.A. county looked like, as most businesses shut down, and the always busy streets suddenly emptied.  So I started taking photos of some of what I saw in March 2020, and now April, as the shelter in place rules continue.  These next few posts are those photos... so far.

The other side of the Universal City train (subway) station, empty.  March 2020.