Shaun:
Yesterday I was down at Java beach purchasing an Orchid called ,'The Jade Prince.' from my co-worker. It was there that he introduced a friend to me whose name is Shaun. Shaun is an Irish man who lives in golden gate park and has done so for 8 years. He has been living homeless for 18 years.
Shaun was born in Dublin, Ireland and he was quite successful in the financial business world. He was a public relations guy who wined and dined clients and then pulled a contract out of them for the most money that he could get. Shaun felt disconnected from his job, and angry at himself for spending so much time with business people he didn't like. He had to pretend to like them, but he felt untrue to himself.
His company really liked him because he did a good job. They moved him to the states to open a new office and were going to make him a vice president. The company bought him a house and a car and he had an expense account with which he could buy himself fine clothes.
Shaun couldn't take it any more and snapped one day. He marched into the office and threw off his suit, he had pants underneath, and walked out and never looked back.
Shaun came to San Francisco because he is a gay man and San Francisco is really open and liberal compared to other places in the world. So he now lives in Golden Gate park. He doesn't have a shanty or anything. He sleeps with a few blankets and when it rains he sleeps under some awnings.
I was very interested to meet shaun. He wasn't an alcoholic, because he didn't drink my beer, even though I offered it to him. He didn't seem overly crazy. Seemed like an intelligent guy. I was boggled at why he had chosen not to have a house and a job. He said he never did a job again unless he liked doing it. He doesn't want to participate in the society we have created from money. He is living on the streets to be closer to himself and to know himself more.
Shaun is a real interesting and genuinely pleasant guy. I am sure he has lots of good stories. Next time you are down at Java beach, buy him a coffee and meet a member of our cities street dwellers.



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Okie: when I was in Hawai'i I met a man named Okie. He said it was because he was from 'okanawa' but he was obviously white, burly, and sarcastic. Yes, he was from Oklahoma. How did he end up living in a brush area behind a 24 hour fitness? That is a hard question
I met Okie at a Starbuck's across the way from 24 hour fitness. I used to go there all the time and meet with friends. We never really bought anything. We just hung out there and met people. Okie and his friend, whose name I forget, taught us how to play a game called, "rich man poor man" whcih is apparently a popular game in the phillipino culture in Hawai'i.
Okie was a gentle alcoholic whom we befriended because of his ability to buy alcohol. He would purchase us food with his food stamp card and we in turn would supply him with cash for alcohol.
Okie had a shanty out back of 24 hour fitness in between the town of Millilani and another small township whose name I forget. It was right off the Kameihameiha(wrong spelling0 highway heading south. He had a canopy made of a tarp with a little sleeping bag and a pile of empty bottles that was bigger than his abode!
My best friend Aaron Sayers and I had grown fond of ole Okie. He would buy us beer and tell us tales and we in turn would drink with him and learn of his pain.
Okie once told me he was in love with a woman and lived with her on a ranch in oklahoma. She was wild as a free horse and maybe looked like one too. But, he loved her, and she him. Although he didn't know that he loved her at the time. He let petty things get in the way of their relationship and let their love dissolve.
After their love affair ended she bedded down with another man and Okie got so jealous that he killed him. Okie was apparenly wanted for murder in Oklahoma. More than one murder, I guess, but he wouldn't elaborate in the face of my childish curiousity.
As Okie told me this story he got very depressed and angry. He got violent towards me by wrapping his hand around my throat and asking me if I had ever killed a man. I hadn't. Okie had been in Vietnam and had lost his virgin innocense there.
I was not afraid of Okie. He had a kind heart. A drunk and confused mind, but a kind heart. When he had my life's blood in his hand, I spoke with him calmly and with compassion, for he hurt for his lost love. He hurts like a man can. like a man may. Like I may.