Oh the Humanity

The summer months are all up on us.

And it's really hot in New York City.

This is a frustrating place to live.

No matter where you go there are people. And no matter how nice of a person you THINK you are, when you have to walk through massive crowds every day, eventually you get tired of it. And what happens? You become mean on the sidewalks. You just wish people would practice common sense and look where they're going.

You learn to HAAAAAAATE people.

Then there are the beggars. You get to know them. There are the beggars on 8th Avenue who are there all the time. Like the large lady who leans against the wall and croaks, "Spaaaare chaaaaange?" every single day. Or another beggar whom I overheard telling one of his buddies that you can't make a lot of money on this corner. Or another who gets a dollar from a tourist then immediately puts it in his pocket to make the cup look empty.

But the problem here is... some of them are actually REAL beggars, not career beggars.

And what do you do about THAT? Here I am with a pocket full of change and I walk past some guy who quietly asks if I have any change. I do the New York thing and pretend I didn't hear him. Then I realize, "HEY! He might have been for real! But I can't turn AROUND!! New Yorkers don't stop and turn around! They ALWAYS keep walking forward!" (I know. It sounds crazy. But it's totally true)

I guess the point is you use a combination of discretion mixed with faith that the Lord will take care of it. Keep your heart tender, don't buy them booze or crack. And when in doubt, offer to buy them a coffee.

Then there was the little old lady on the corner of 49th and Broadway.

All gussied up as if she just came from church. I'm waiting for the signal to change so I can cross. She bends over. It looks like she dropped something and is trying to find it.

Except she keeps going down and down until she's on her hands and knees. Then she totally barfs. All over the place.

The tourists said, "EW!" and kept walking. I kind of freaked out. I crossed and began to pass the poor creature. Then I stopped and made like I just got an email on my phone while I tried rapidly to think of what the crap I should do.

Fortunately, some older gentleman got to her and started asking if she was okay. That gave me the courage to run over and help him get the lady to her feet and offer to make a phone call.

Quivering, she said she was fine but thank you.

I started to walk away when it occurred to me she might not have just collapsed because of some violent illness, but maybe was just drunk from too many St. Thomas Bloody Marys.

But I don't know that! For all I knew she was DYING!

And then there are the couple of bodies I've seen on the sidewalk. Homeless guys. Just...lying there. Sprawled out on the pavement. And they didn't APPEAR to be breathing.

I mean, what the crap y'all? What's a person supposed to DO? The answers seem SO easy, SO obvious. But WAIT until it happens in front of you. It's really easy to just pretend you didn't see it or that someone has already informed the authorities or an ambulance.

I maintain that you can't really be a really REAL Christian, like, a mature Christian until you've been hit in the face with humanity. Like, THIS kind of humanity. The kind that says, "DO SOMETHING!" but you wind up feeling totally scared or powerless to do anything. And the voices tell you, "Just keep walking. They're probably drunk. It's not your problem."

But it IS your problem! But you HAVE to do something. That's the POINT. COMPASSION! MERCY!

And you think the strangest things when you're in a crowd... Lately, all I can think when I'm getting into a subway car is, "And all of these people expect to get Christmas presents."

All this said, New York is cool, but man. It's not an easy place to live. I miss being in places where the most interaction you have with strangers comes from accidentally locking eyes with them on the freeway.

Surprise

I'm surprised by how VERY careful I have to be around people sometimes. I'm always pissing people off.

Goo

I just did my first full-body cast for a studio that makes realistic mannequins for museums.

It was really cool. Except for the fact that I was basically covered from head to toe in petroleum jelly.

Now I know how that pelican felt. Only the pelican was just minding his own business. Maybe he was going to pick up some milk and butter from the store. I don't know.

One thing I DO know; he wasn't about to have a full-body cast of himself made while striking a heroic pose.

I also learned that dishwashing soap really is good for cutting the grease!

First, it's best to shave as much of the hair off your body as you can stand without feeling ashamed. Because when they peel you out of the cast, they're peeling your knuckle-hairs out too.

Fortunately, I've had a lot of experience dealing with pain in my life. So I just take a deep breath and keep reminding myself this discomfort is far less than the pain I'd feel if I were having shoots of bamboo jammed up my remaining 9 toenails.

Heroic pose. Soldier. The Everyman (5'9'', 150lbs, Caucasian, brown hair, blue eyes) Goes to War.

Once the pose was set, they fastened these padded bars all around me, sort of like a cage. A very TIGHT cage. Then I could lean on them and relax a little since it takes time for the plaster to dry.

Part 1 was the lower body. Part 2 was the upper body. They didn't get the green light to make it into a trilogy, however, because I have a big bushy beard. The studio director has begged me to shave so they can do body and face casts.

Hmm. Well. I don't KNOwwwwwwwwww. Seeing my heroic, athletic likeness in museums all around the world... or keep Theodore.

I'll keep Theodore.

But if he gets outta line...whoooooo. Just. WATCH OUT.