Hobosexuality

I saw this guy on the train and he definitely, well I don’t want to say definitely because what do I know- but to me he seemed definitely to fall into the category of drug user/crazy person- I mean pan handling on the train doesn’t automatically qualify you as being full on mad or on drugs but this guy seemed the genuine article.  He was singing this song:
”I want to see the stars tonight while I’m in your arms…”
Over and over.  Twitching madly in this sort of left foot to right foot dance.  It was certainly odd.  But what made it more odd was that owing to the fact that this was about nine thirty in the morning and the train was very crowded the man had tailored his performance to just one person.  He chose for his audience a man in his late thirties, hair perfectly coiffed, designer frames, very expensive stylish overcoat under which was a clearly visible suit and tie.  And the talent shifted back and forth from the left to the right flailing his one arm pretty much the entire time singing in a voice loud enough for only a couple people to hear:
”I want to see the stars tonight while I’m in your arms…”
To a man who was pretty much staring right through him.  So he kept on singing for about two stops occasionally jumping out of the verse to say,

“…I’m in your arms- How’m I doing, buddy?” 

It was weird.  But it reminded me of something I’d wanted to talk about in this forum for some time. 

Panhandling Do’s and Do Not Do’s. (I would say Don’t’s but that looks really weird- grammar buffs?)

Panhandling is a performance sport- you are offering a service.  You are assuaging the guilt of middle class affluence by reminding people how close they are to being absolutely divested of dignity.  You serve as a cautionary tale.  So, with that in mind.

DO:  Use props.  Props drive home the reality of the situation.  Got a wheel chair?  Good news.  Missing a foot?  You’re set like a jet.  I saw a man who was claiming to be a homeless Vietnam Vet sitting on

Park Avenue

waving his VA card.  I was convinced and if I had cash I would’ve maybe given him some.  Because I’m hard by now.  I’m flinty.  Obdurate.  I will not be moved.  But even I feel a warm lump of pity in my icy throat when I see a good prop hobo.

DON’T:  Talk. Talking doesn’t help your cause.  Your verbal skills only cause me to wonder why it is you can’t get a job which might involve talking.  This is death to your cause.  The last feeling you want to inspire about your position is curiosity because it will always end up in me wondering why you can’t just get a job.  Your pathetic situation should be unmistakably obvious.  There should be pitiable blight.  No explanation should be necessary.

DO:  Be nice.  Polite.  But then, refrain from using humor unless your using sort of alcoholic humor- for example, “Can anybody give me a dollar for a beer?  A least I’m fuckin’ honest!”  This might work.  I know why you can’t get a job- you’re a drunk.  You have a sickness.  But anything else will bring up the question why can’t you get a job, funny man?  Also refrain from making your niceness smack of a niceness.  There’s a black guy on the N/W train with three fingers on his hand who demands that you smile all the time.  I find this to be a drag.  But I dare not tell him so because God knows how he lost the two fingers.

DON’T:  Have obvious factual holes in your pitch.  Example:  A woman on the N/W train (and I don’t mean to beat up on the N/W hobos, but that’s my ride, yo) was asking people on the East bound train for money to buy a train ticket to

New Jersey

.  While carrying a Bloomingdales bag.  She actually said, “I’m sorry to bother you folks but can I trouble you for a few dollars to get to

New Jersey

.”  At which point some guy said, “Lady,

New Jersey

is in the other direction.  Across two rivers and

Manhattan

.”  And a bunch of people sort of caught on with angry, “Yeah!” and “White bitch!”  Which is another thing you have to realize if you’re an aspiring Caucasoid hobo.  Panhandling as a white person is a little tougher.  White guilt is a big source of income for panhandling, and that dog will not hunt for you.  Maybe you ought to go back and finish that psychology degree and try to get a job at Borders.

DO:  Play an instrument well.  There is something awesome about being on a train with someone rocking Gershwin on a clarinet, or Stevie Wonder on a Casio, or polyrhythms on a bongo.  Hell, I’ll gladly kick in a dollar if someone entertains me for ten minutes. 

DON’T:  Suck.  Or explain what the song is about.  Fuck, dude, I don’t want to hear about your life.  I don’t want to hear that you are playing guitar because you lost your job.  I want to be entertained.  Either beg or play music.  And if you’re begging, try to follow the things I’ve prescribed above.

I’m ambivalent regarding making signs.  Some signs are good. Most signs say too much.  I think a simple “POORER THAN YOU” would be good.  Possibly a “RETARDED” sign might inspire some pity.  “God bless you” is always a nice touch.  But please don’t  write the preamble to the constitution because I’m not reading it.   Twenty words, thirty maximum.  And legible.  And not neat either because then I’m thinking that you are a professional.  And nobody likes a professional hobo.  It’s one of those rare jobs where amateurism is the level to be aspired to.  Like stripping, it’s much sexier if everybody thinks it’s your first day.

I’m also ambivalent about extreme panhandling.  That’s not to say aggressive panhandling.  That shit is a crime.  I’m talking about say, not wearing shoes on a 20 degree day.  I mean, effective for one day but I think it’s a shitty career move. 

That said, good luck.  Don’t worry about the truth, but do stick to your story because I’ll probably see you a bunch of times. 

And finally, I don’t think I’ve ever given anybody any money.  Except for the guy covering Stevie Wonder on his Casio. But he ruled.