So we’re on the Street

...........................................................................................................................................................................

( a few years later but still a while before the present day)

.....the man remarked to his wife and son mildly. They had just been evicted. They were in their van along with everything that they owned which could fit in it with them. Everything else would no doubt be stolen soon. It was piled near the curb.

They’d seen it happen to other evicted families time and time again. In a sense they were lucky. They had an old work van instead of an automobile. The cars nowadays were so small, and so cramped inside that the three of them would barely have fit much less any belongings. Today’s cars were built so poorly, had such low ground clearance and were so flimsy that they’d start to come apart at the first pothole.

They were lucky in a different way too. The father was an avid outdoorsman. They had camping gear, hunting and fishing equipment as well as a trio of kayaks secured to the luggage rack on top of the van.

“Let’s go camping.” Charlie said. “I don’t like the street people. They’re stinky, stupid and besides that the cops hassle them.”

The father sighed and turned to his wife. “He’s right you know. Maybe not about the stupid part but go a few days without a shower and anyone will be stink. He’s certainly right about the Cop part. It might as well be illegal to be homeless in this town.”

She nodded. It was true. “Maybe the Indians will let us stay on the reservation. I’ve heard that they are nice people.”

“I don’t know what else we can do at this point.” The father said.

He drove the van toward the state line..

(Present day)
If you show me yours

“.....I’ll show you mine.” she said

“I can already see yours” I replied.

“Not THAT silly.“ she giggled “what I should have said was ‘You TELL me your STORY and I’ll TELL you mine’, but I can’t resist a straight line.”

‘Speaking of straight’ I thought to myself...

”AHEM!” I said out loud. ‘Don’t EVEN go there’ I thought to myself.

“Ok...you want the long drawn out, sad, sad version, or do you want the shorter executive summary?” I asked.

“Just touch on the high points” she looked at me expectantly

“I wish” I muttered. “Now QUIT doing that. You’re distracting me. Do you want to hear my story or do you want to watch me drool like a baby and babble?”

“Yes” she replied with dazzling smile.

“Women.” I huffed.

“Ok...” I said, pouring myself another whisky, a big one this time. This was going to be thirsty work “This is a no- shitter. I was there.”

I launched into my story. Every trucker has stories and most of us like to tell them. I was no different.

“Back in the day I was a Heavy Haul Trucker” I said looking her in the...eye.

She grinned...”Go on.”

Apparently she was serious. “I was doing pretty good. I had my own truck, my own trailer, and I was leased to a fairly good company. A ‘good company’ being defined as one that didn’t cheat me TOO bad. They did cheat me, of course. All companies do, but these guys were tolerable.They cheated me in moderation. I was staying busy and actually making some money...until THAT President was elected.”

“What’s a THAT President?” she asked me.

Another straight line. Should I? NO....I’d best tell it right “He was the worst president in US history. I can tell you many bad things about him. Some of them might even be true, but to make a long story short, due to his mismanagement and corruption...the economy crashed. Oh don’t get me wrong. He had a LOT of help. It wasn’t totally his fault but he made it worse.”

“Fascinating” she said “A government. I’ve heard about them. Nothing good. Please go on.”

I blinked. I blinked...hard. “You’ve only heard about governments...but.”

“I’ll tell you mine AFTER you tell me yours” she interrupted me...firmly. I think she meant it.

“Ok “ I said “at any rate. The economy crashed and I lost my truck.”

“Oh...that’s Bad” she said.

“No...” I disagreed “That was actually good as it turned out. Not only did the economy crash but robotics, automation, and self-driving trucks replaced Truck Drivers soon after. If I’d stayed on the road I’d not have had ANY thing. I bailed out soon enough to salvage something”.

“Oh...that’s good” she said

“No...that turned out to be bad” I told her “I’d held on too long. By the time I finally decided to bailout I had gone into debt. I owed the company that I was leased to a pretty good chunk of change. When I quit I didn’t have anything so they couldn’t take anything. You can’t get blood from a turnip like they say. But I also couldn’t get a job. Bad references and bad credit not to mention my bad attitude....which got worse every time I had an employment application declined.”

“Oh..that’s bad” She looked sad.

“No..that was good” I said contradictorily. “Since I had no luck at getting a job or any hope of getting one I took up experimental gardening, fishing and tinkering around on the couple of acres that I owned. It had a river running by it and was on a flood plain so no one was interested in it. IT was basically worthless, due to the flood risk. It actually flooded fairly often. It wouldn’t be worth anyone’s time to take it away from me. As long as I paid my taxes I was fine. The taxes were low so that I had enough to do that from my Social Security check.”

“Oh...that’s good!” she eyed me with anticipation. I didn’t disappoint her.

“No...that was bad.” I said grinning. “The state decided that it was going to run a highway thru my land and build a big bridge on it. I was given a choice. Sell out to them or they’d take it by eminent domain anyway.”

“Oh...too bad.” she grinned...it was a game now. I seemed to be amusing her. That was the plan.

“No...that was good” I said grinning too. “My land was worth a LOT more than what I thought it would be. They paid me pretty good even if they did cheat me.”

“Oh...that’s good” her eyes were shining.

“No...that was bad.” I said “Now that I had some money the collection agency that the trucking company had sold my debt to...collected. They took it all.”

“Oh...so sad...that’s too bad” she looked at me with suspicion.

“No..that was good” I said “I had nothing left except for my homebuilt Shanty boat that I lived in. It WAS a flood plain after all. I may have been born at night but it wasn’t LAST night. Only a fool would build a house on a flood plain. When I first decided to live there it was either buy a travel trailer so I could move it during the floods.... or build a boat. Since I dint’ have the money for a trailer, I built a boat. Pretty nice one too if I say so myself. It was designed by a naval architect from Seattle by the name of Phil Theil. He called it the ‘friend ship’”

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