821 Bradford has a cracked window and some torn screens. One way to fix it is to replace. The screens are only about $15 each at the local hardware store on Center Street. But there is a more artsie way. Glue stained glass to the cracked window. Dianna did it and it looks great. A neighbor, Sally, and I came up with a similar idea for the screen: embroider a patch in a bright color. It is something like screen painting.
Sally took me to the Habitat Restore yesterday. She had a bunch of screens in the car and explained that she is into a screen painting revival club. One thing led to another, and that is how we got to the embroidered screen idea.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
cool
I'm reading scholars talk about "cool" in the young black man's code of the street. And I'm seeing it in the walk of young black men near Bradford Street. Some strike me as genuinely cool to the bone. Yesterday I was inspired to try walking cool. It is slower, more sensual, very alert, yet casual, sexy, and ready to fight. I mostly relate to the sensuality of it. When you walk like that, life is so sweet, it is ok to die soon. You know you have walked cool, and that is enough.
But I do not plan to walk cool on Bradford Street. No, I plan to walk with prupose, quick and deliberate. I plan to walk like I am minding my own buisness. Not staring at others, but staying alert and watching my back. I am practicing ways of looking back. One is to cross the street, which requires looking back.
My plan is to stay out of fights. The problem with cool on Bradford is that it can get you in a fight. I'll be cool in the privacy of my own house, or in a nice save neighborhood, or in the woods.
But I do not plan to walk cool on Bradford Street. No, I plan to walk with prupose, quick and deliberate. I plan to walk like I am minding my own buisness. Not staring at others, but staying alert and watching my back. I am practicing ways of looking back. One is to cross the street, which requires looking back.
My plan is to stay out of fights. The problem with cool on Bradford is that it can get you in a fight. I'll be cool in the privacy of my own house, or in a nice save neighborhood, or in the woods.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
the essence of the superrich is absence
Poem: "Slum Lords" by John Updike, from Americana: and Other Poems. © Alfred A. Knopf, 2001.
Slum Lords
The superrich make lousy neighbors—
they buy a house and tear it down
and build another, twice as big, and leave.
They're never there; they own so many
other houses, each demands a visit.
Entire neighborhoods called fashionable,
bustling with servants and masters, such as
Louisburg Square in Boston or Bel Air in L.A.,
are districts now like Wall Street after dark
or Tombstone once the silver boom went bust.
The essence of superrich is absence.
They like to demonstrate they can afford
to be elsewhere. Don't let them in.
Their riches form a kind of poverty.
The superrich make lousy neighbors...
Thay are never there; they own so many other houses, each demands a visit...
The essence of the superrich is absence.
They like to demonstrate they can afford to be elsewhere.
Don't let them in.
Ok, now it has already been said:
Wealth is freedom to be absent.
If I can afford to be elsewhere, I am wealthy.
Down on Bradford Street, I am very wealthy,
very free to be absent. But by my willingness to absent myself from 31st Street,
I am wealthy there too.
Brandon says that he does not know anyone else who is not financially burdoned: his parents, his parents in law, he and his wife are all living week to week or in debt. His parents in law used to have money, but they baught a huge house then Aaron's dad lost his job.
I like being rich. Like my freedom to be absent. And I want to tell others that it is possible to live within your means. The secret is to know when you are spending on more than you need and be willing to go back to basics: be glad for a roof over your head and drinkable water, some food to eat and clothes on your back. If your clothes are dirty, you are ok if you have a way to hand wash them.
Slum Lords
The superrich make lousy neighbors—
they buy a house and tear it down
and build another, twice as big, and leave.
They're never there; they own so many
other houses, each demands a visit.
Entire neighborhoods called fashionable,
bustling with servants and masters, such as
Louisburg Square in Boston or Bel Air in L.A.,
are districts now like Wall Street after dark
or Tombstone once the silver boom went bust.
The essence of superrich is absence.
They like to demonstrate they can afford
to be elsewhere. Don't let them in.
Their riches form a kind of poverty.
The superrich make lousy neighbors...
Thay are never there; they own so many other houses, each demands a visit...
The essence of the superrich is absence.
They like to demonstrate they can afford to be elsewhere.
Don't let them in.
Ok, now it has already been said:
Wealth is freedom to be absent.
If I can afford to be elsewhere, I am wealthy.
Down on Bradford Street, I am very wealthy,
very free to be absent. But by my willingness to absent myself from 31st Street,
I am wealthy there too.
Brandon says that he does not know anyone else who is not financially burdoned: his parents, his parents in law, he and his wife are all living week to week or in debt. His parents in law used to have money, but they baught a huge house then Aaron's dad lost his job.
I like being rich. Like my freedom to be absent. And I want to tell others that it is possible to live within your means. The secret is to know when you are spending on more than you need and be willing to go back to basics: be glad for a roof over your head and drinkable water, some food to eat and clothes on your back. If your clothes are dirty, you are ok if you have a way to hand wash them.
Monday, April 28, 2008
death wish and the choice of life
Last night, I visited Brandon at the bakery. We got high with Dillen and Sara, and Dillen gave me a job slicing bread on Fridays and Saturdays, 2-6. It will start June, the second week.
Brandon asked whether, if I die, the house on Bradford would go to Cindy. I said yes, it is in our will that if either of us dies, all our property goes to the other. That got me thinking about dying. At first, it scared me, the thought of dying down near Bradford, perhaps in some street asault. Fear gripped me as I considered the possibility that I'm fated to die there. I don't like fear, so I shifted to desire. I desired death.
I roused myself from my thoughts to give Brandon this resolve: "Although I am aware of my death desire, I choose life. Before God, if God cares to know, and Brandon, I resolve to stay alive and well."
That felt like a good step.
Brandon asked whether, if I die, the house on Bradford would go to Cindy. I said yes, it is in our will that if either of us dies, all our property goes to the other. That got me thinking about dying. At first, it scared me, the thought of dying down near Bradford, perhaps in some street asault. Fear gripped me as I considered the possibility that I'm fated to die there. I don't like fear, so I shifted to desire. I desired death.
I roused myself from my thoughts to give Brandon this resolve: "Although I am aware of my death desire, I choose life. Before God, if God cares to know, and Brandon, I resolve to stay alive and well."
That felt like a good step.
cold water flat
some of her New York friends gave her a year's salary along with a note: "You have one year off from your job to write whatever you please. Merry Christmas." She decided to devote herself to writing and moved into an apartment with only cold water and improvised furniture.
Harper Lee wrote very slowly, extensively revising for two and a half years on the manuscript of To Kill a Mockingbird
Source: Writer's Almanac.
That is the first I have heard of anyone famous having lived in an apartment with "only cold water and improvised furniture."
That is exactly what I am planning. Of course I plan to make solar warm water for bathing. I'll put eight gallon jug wraped in black plastic in the back yard each day. And for boiling water, I'll make a wood fire in the back yard.
As for imporvised furniture, I already have my eye on a plastic table I saw in a back alley, one with a hole in the middle the top surface. I thought I might make it flat with a board on top.
That, of course, does not make me a writer. For that I will need to dig deep into my own wells.
Harper Lee wrote very slowly, extensively revising for two and a half years on the manuscript of To Kill a Mockingbird
Source: Writer's Almanac.
That is the first I have heard of anyone famous having lived in an apartment with "only cold water and improvised furniture."
That is exactly what I am planning. Of course I plan to make solar warm water for bathing. I'll put eight gallon jug wraped in black plastic in the back yard each day. And for boiling water, I'll make a wood fire in the back yard.
As for imporvised furniture, I already have my eye on a plastic table I saw in a back alley, one with a hole in the middle the top surface. I thought I might make it flat with a board on top.
That, of course, does not make me a writer. For that I will need to dig deep into my own wells.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Cheep living
Cheep. The cornerstone value of my venture into this urban cabin is cheep survival. It is the cheapest house in Baltimore. The house itself is an investment which may like result in capital gains. So that does not count as an expense in the same sense as pure consumption of non-resueables like gas and electricity.
And I plan to live without gas and electric. For food, another non-reuseable, I want to learn more about dumpster diving.
I'm wondering about the viability of cooking with a wood fire. Scrap wood is fairly abundant, given the number of houses that are being remodeled, gutted. I need to avoid wood that is treated or painted as those have fumes. But basic 2by4s would do the job. I have an outdoor grill for a place to burn the wood. I need a saw and axe, but I do not have either. They are kind of expensive to buy, so I'd like to borrow. On the other had, maybe I can justify buying because it is so re-usable. Few things are more re-usable than an axe.
And I plan to live without gas and electric. For food, another non-reuseable, I want to learn more about dumpster diving.
I'm wondering about the viability of cooking with a wood fire. Scrap wood is fairly abundant, given the number of houses that are being remodeled, gutted. I need to avoid wood that is treated or painted as those have fumes. But basic 2by4s would do the job. I have an outdoor grill for a place to burn the wood. I need a saw and axe, but I do not have either. They are kind of expensive to buy, so I'd like to borrow. On the other had, maybe I can justify buying because it is so re-usable. Few things are more re-usable than an axe.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
"As long as you mind your own buisness"... "let's get him."
I was walking along a street near Bradford. I think it was Montford, 800 block. Four young guys were sitting on a step. "Need any thing?" one asked. "No" I said, "I'm just passing through."
"You look like him. Do you know him?" asked a neatly dressed fellow.
"You look like him," repeated another who had a speech impediment and was probably mentally retarded.
"I don't know what your talking about." I said.
"Give me five dollars," demanded the neatly dressed fellow.
"I don't give away money," I replied.
"Let's get him!" Said neatly dressed, as jumped off the step and lunged toward me.
I felt my energy rise. I lifted my hands automatically and shook my head, gesturing that I did not want to fight.
He stopped, then walked away as if nothing had happened. Just then some older guys had come by. Their arrival might have helped. They exchanged some words, or money or something.
I walked away wondering how close I came to getting beat-up. It was broad daylight, 12:00 noon. It was my first time seeing them, as I recall.
The main thing I would do differently next time is walk on the other side of the street and walk fast, like I was minding my own buisness. Not just meandering around or hanging out or checking the place out.
Earlier, in the alley behind the east side 800 Bradford houses, a light skinned man who appeared to be in his 60s walked by carrying two Save-a-Lot bags. I told him I liked Save-a-Lot, and he agreed. "Food is getting expensive," he said. He said he uses the subway to go to his Save-A-Lot branch -- I had not known about. I wish I could remember the name of the place.
He lives on Ashland and his back yard is cati-corner to the 821 back yard. He recommended an alarm system if I am going to be out a lot. 30 a month is cheep, he said. I thought it was too much. Besides, I don't even plan to be using electricity. He said the bars on my place would not be enough to keep them out. I thought to myself that if I don't have anything inside to steal, they will stay away.
As far as safety is concerned, he said the main thing is to "mind your own buisness -- only report crime where you are directly involved."
"You look like him. Do you know him?" asked a neatly dressed fellow.
"You look like him," repeated another who had a speech impediment and was probably mentally retarded.
"I don't know what your talking about." I said.
"Give me five dollars," demanded the neatly dressed fellow.
"I don't give away money," I replied.
"Let's get him!" Said neatly dressed, as jumped off the step and lunged toward me.
I felt my energy rise. I lifted my hands automatically and shook my head, gesturing that I did not want to fight.
He stopped, then walked away as if nothing had happened. Just then some older guys had come by. Their arrival might have helped. They exchanged some words, or money or something.
I walked away wondering how close I came to getting beat-up. It was broad daylight, 12:00 noon. It was my first time seeing them, as I recall.
The main thing I would do differently next time is walk on the other side of the street and walk fast, like I was minding my own buisness. Not just meandering around or hanging out or checking the place out.
Earlier, in the alley behind the east side 800 Bradford houses, a light skinned man who appeared to be in his 60s walked by carrying two Save-a-Lot bags. I told him I liked Save-a-Lot, and he agreed. "Food is getting expensive," he said. He said he uses the subway to go to his Save-A-Lot branch -- I had not known about. I wish I could remember the name of the place.
He lives on Ashland and his back yard is cati-corner to the 821 back yard. He recommended an alarm system if I am going to be out a lot. 30 a month is cheep, he said. I thought it was too much. Besides, I don't even plan to be using electricity. He said the bars on my place would not be enough to keep them out. I thought to myself that if I don't have anything inside to steal, they will stay away.
As far as safety is concerned, he said the main thing is to "mind your own buisness -- only report crime where you are directly involved."
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Sun articles
http://www.baltimoresun.com/news/opinion/ideas/bal-id.brewery16jul16,1,770673.story
Ten blocks north, on Bradford, there was a shooting in '05 and the sun ran some human interest articles.
I like the woman who says, in the slide show, that she would not move out of the neighborhood. She cares about her neighbors, goes to work, keeps her house clean, gets greeted by children.
Ten blocks north, on Bradford, there was a shooting in '05 and the sun ran some human interest articles.
I like the woman who says, in the slide show, that she would not move out of the neighborhood. She cares about her neighbors, goes to work, keeps her house clean, gets greeted by children.
Past violent incident
The prosecutor dropped the mandatory five-year gun sentence, and Fowlkes
pleaded guilty to first-degree assault and illegally carrying a handgun.
Fowlkes, then 18, was soon back on the streets -- and back in trouble.
Late at night on July 26, 1999, prosecutors say, Fowlkes was armed again.
On an East Baltimore side street, Fowlkes and another man got into a gun
battle.
Twenty yards away, Carlton Valentine; his brother, Arnell Davis; and their
cousin, Wayne Johnson, were sitting on the steps of Valentine's home at
821 N. Bradford St., drinking beer and trying to escape the stifling summer
heat.
Hearing the shots, the three scrambled off the steps and lay flat on the
sidewalk. "It was like the O.K. Corral," Davis says. "The bullets were
flying." When the shooting momentarily ceased, the men tried to rush
indoors. But more bullets whizzed down the street. One hit Valentine in the
back.
"He told me, 'Brother, I'm shot. I got shot in the back,' " Davis, a forklift
operator, recalls. "Wayne was screaming for help. I said, 'Man, we're going
to get those guys.' "
Valentine, an auto mechanic and father of four, died at Johns Hopkins
Hospital 50 minutes later.
Davis, who identified Fowlkes for police as one of the shooters, was furious
when told of Fowlkes' previous conviction.
"There shouldn't be no plea bargains," Davis says. "It's bad when you can't
sit on your own steps."
pleaded guilty to first-degree assault and illegally carrying a handgun.
Fowlkes, then 18, was soon back on the streets -- and back in trouble.
Late at night on July 26, 1999, prosecutors say, Fowlkes was armed again.
On an East Baltimore side street, Fowlkes and another man got into a gun
battle.
Twenty yards away, Carlton Valentine; his brother, Arnell Davis; and their
cousin, Wayne Johnson, were sitting on the steps of Valentine's home at
821 N. Bradford St., drinking beer and trying to escape the stifling summer
heat.
Hearing the shots, the three scrambled off the steps and lay flat on the
sidewalk. "It was like the O.K. Corral," Davis says. "The bullets were
flying." When the shooting momentarily ceased, the men tried to rush
indoors. But more bullets whizzed down the street. One hit Valentine in the
back.
"He told me, 'Brother, I'm shot. I got shot in the back,' " Davis, a forklift
operator, recalls. "Wayne was screaming for help. I said, 'Man, we're going
to get those guys.' "
Valentine, an auto mechanic and father of four, died at Johns Hopkins
Hospital 50 minutes later.
Davis, who identified Fowlkes for police as one of the shooters, was furious
when told of Fowlkes' previous conviction.
"There shouldn't be no plea bargains," Davis says. "It's bad when you can't
sit on your own steps."
Why work? This is a question that perplexes me. We live so far from basic survival. Survival seems remote. But survival is something that would motivate me. So I want to get down to that level: the basic consern for food and shelter.
That is part of the appeal of the cabin. While I am there, I concern myself with survival. I work for survival.
That is part of the appeal of the cabin. While I am there, I concern myself with survival. I work for survival.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Where I am in charge
I've never really had a house of my own. I went from my parent's place, to a college group-house, to living with the woman I married.
With a house of my own, I can leave it as unfurnished as I want, use as little water as I want, leave the gas and electric disconnected if I want. I can create a house within the house -- Tiny spaces, a corner of a room, a beaten path all my own.
I wonder what will really happen when I am living there rather than just dreaming of it. Will I end up filling spaces?
With a house of my own, I can leave it as unfurnished as I want, use as little water as I want, leave the gas and electric disconnected if I want. I can create a house within the house -- Tiny spaces, a corner of a room, a beaten path all my own.
I wonder what will really happen when I am living there rather than just dreaming of it. Will I end up filling spaces?
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