What I learned when I was homeless...

It would be impossible for someone who knows me to imagine that I was once a man who would go a day or two without a meal. But there is a short period of my life when this was my reality, and it was a life I was the only one to blame for.

illustration by Sarah Kirk

A series of poor decisions protected by my ego led me to Arizona in 2003. I was a 23 year old with nothing to lose, or so I thought so taking risks was not something new to me, or something too scary.

My uncle had invited me to work with him at this startup company, the job was supposed to be really simple. When it was explained to me I remember thinking how curious it was that you could make $300 a day feeding phone lines into pvc pipes and signing off on a little paper to turn in at the end of every day. As you might guess landlines back in 2003 where still in use and Bellsouth had to outsource their field work…. Our fancy title “Contractors”.

The day I got the job was awkward to say the least, the owner of the company Jim, was big guy who was probably too much into meat and potatoes was not only surprised that my uncle had invited me to arizona to come work there, but that I was expecting the numbers I previously mentioned.

Since the moment of the phone call that convinced me to fly to arizona and me standing in that log cabin a whole month had passed. And I say a whole month because in that short period of time the company went from having investors and a fleet of workers to a somber room with 8 men talking about how they are going to make it work… someway… somehow....

The solution was not ideal, but it was something. Jim came up with specific dollars amounts for each job. (no hourly wage)

In a probably timid voice I remember asking if it made a difference if we had to work hours at a location versus a simple pull through job, which was just feeding a phone line into an existing PVC pipe. But my question was squatted like a mosquito trying to be noticed.

All I got was a very simple NO. Thinking back maybe Jim acted extra thought as to not allow any revolt within the ranks, and I was the new guy. He was sure I would not complain.

Our little crew consisted of three inexperienced but willing workers Daniel(who I met that day but became a great friend), my uncle Al and myself. We were to share the oldest truck the company had, the V8 nobody wanted since the GAS was our expense to cover with the money we made each day.

90 dollars a job, it was not too bad…. Right? I mean we could do like 10 a day… I think I walked out of that log cabin feeling pretty confident about my energy and youth.

The truth is that these months are now some of the craziest memories I cherish, and I do so not because everything was fun and games and we walked out of there like rich men, but for the exact opposite.

That being said I learned a lot and in many ways got my first taste at that notion I had heard a thousand times over. Life sometimes is not fair.

We would sleep where we could, there were days we made close to nothing. Starting our mornings at 6am with only a “boutique aged coffee” from a gas station as breakfast and digging up trenches with a shovel waiting for the noon break when we would get to have a bean burrito for a buck. That was the highlight of the day, at least for me. It's just like the old saying there is no better condiment than hunger.

The little cash the company dried up, even more… I guess it was already underwater when I boarded the ship and I pretended naively not to be aware of it. We scrambled for money everyday and slept in the car more times that I care to count.

There was a hotel in a very small town that we favored, it was cheap… very cheap. The only good thing it had going on for itself, many of the rooms had holes that lead to the other rooms and some of the holes in key places like the bathroom were covered with paper plates, like the ones you get a piece of cake at an office party.

We did have a heater though, not a central one of course… no no.. a tiny little portable unit the size of a lunchbox good enough to prevent a small cat from going into hypothermia. But we had something to help us sleep and the trick was to aim it at your feet.

Sleeping would have been difficult for anyone else, but we would get to the hotel so exhausted and sore the loudest snoring my uncle could perform made no difference to Daniel or to me.

We were so broke and stressed, but I remember how much I valued simple things back then.

Like a can of tuna, it was the most delicious thing to me and the rice we use to cook in the bathroom was as good as any gourmet meal I could remember.

I guess you could say we had nothing… we were homeless… after all rest stops had become a great alternative on the days we could not afford the cheapest of the hotels and never having more than 20 dollars to my name became the norm.

I was hungry, I was hungry all the time… I was so hungry once I tried to catch a wild bunny. Needless to say I did not succeed, those little critters can outrun even the fastest human.

The experience also taught me something about hunger, but in its true meaning… it's simply not something anyone can cure with one meal. We live in a society that has a hard time understanding poverty at these levels, that tries to rationalize why social programs are a bad idea.

I guess you could say I hit rock bottom… but I like to think of it differently now a days. We learned to be strong, we learned to be fighters… and probably more importantly to not be afraid of what everyone else calls being a failure.

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Quite some years ago I was walking in South Beach and noticed a homeless man holding a kitty in his arms, his obvious ability to love this animal inspired a song that night. I only recorded a demo of it, but its still a song a hold dear to my heart.