A Horse With No Name

" I've been through the desert on a horse with no name It felt good to be out of the rain In the desert you can remember your name 'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain La, la ... "



Ah the good old days. Remember that oldie? Well, it was a pretty weird song to stay the least!

But, it was not too weird for 1999 on Aurora Avenue in Seattle. As you know by now, I never knew what I was going to see next on this street. But, you also never knew what you might not see. Let me explain.



It was 5 PM on the Ave, and the traffic was doing it's usual slow snake dance all the way from 85th up to Lynwood. I was just coming on for the last 8 hours of the night, and had just bid my desk clerk a good evening when the lobby door came crashing open with a loud bang. There to greet my surprised eyes was a man with flowing long hair and a beard in a kind of a squatting stance, one hand kind of between his legs, and the other hand slightly above it. Now if any of you can go back to your childhood for a moment, and picture those wooden stick horses, you can get the image of how this guy was postured. As he came towards the desk he was even yelling "giddy-up, giddy-up". and then "whoa! "



Well, it would have been strange enough as it was, but think again back to those wooden stick horses, and picture it. Yes, he was in the right position, and yes, he was yelling giddy-up and whoa, but you see, the problem was not only this comical sight, but that there was not even a stick horse. My friends, that is real imagination !



As the rider and his "horse" came close to the desk the mam was muttering and then spurring his "horse " on. I am sure my mouth was agape by now, and my desk clerk, Sonia, was laughing so hard that she was almost doubled over. I didn't know what to say. And here is the understatement of the century, I was dealing with someone not playing the right tune. And then it hit me. This guy was a left over from the sixties. He would have been about the right age for that era, and the imagination was real for him, only we call it hallucination! It could only be one thing, Acid, LSD, the drug of the sixties.



As I was reaching for the phone to call 911, the horse and rider bolted through the lobby, back out the front door,and into the rush hour traffic on Aurora Avenue. I thought for sure that I was about to witness the man being crushed by the on rushing traffic, but luck was on his side, or maybe it was the ghost of Timothy O' Leary watching over one of his followers, for the light on 85th and Aurora Avenue had just turned red.



Still watching in stunned mirth, I watched the rider jump onto the hood of a car driven by a young woman. She starred in utter disbelief as the man lay prone on her hood. He then bolted from her car to another car, and then another and another. By that time every cell phone for about ten miles was out as stunned motorists were dialing 911.Within a few minutes , the place was crawling with Seattle Blue, and the man and his "horse" were loaded into a special van and driven away. I never say him again, but I have often wondered about the horse, I hope that they found a good home for him.



" After nine days I let the horse run free 'Cause the desert had turned to sea There were plants and birds and rocks and things there was sand and hills and rings The ocean is a desert with it's life underground And a perfect disguise above Under the cities lies a heart made of ground But the humans will give no love You see I've been through the desert on a horse with no name It felt good to be out of the rain In the desert you can remember your name 'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain La, la ..."

Being A Sucker Sometimes Works

Ah, the street people. If you have never worked in a big city, or if you have never been around real street folks, you don't know what you are missing. Some people are scared to death of those who walk up and down the corridors of the nation's cities. Why? Well, mostly because these folks look or act differently then you do. They don't look like Mr. Jones, your next door neighbour, they don't drive a big SUV, and they seldom attend soccer games, shop at the neighbourhood Safeway, and they might even smell a little bit funny.

Cut aways the ragged clothes, the unkempt hair, the unshaven faces, the vacant look on some their faces, and the hungry look in their eyes, and guess what you you will have? Correct. Look familiar? They should, because they now look just like Mr. and Mrs. Jones, your next door neighbours. Hey, they might even look like your doctor, your lawyer, sorry, Go Figure, or your former banker. Heck, they might even look like you. Maybe, just maybe, they are you a few years from now when you have lost your job, your car has been taken away, and the bank came and said you are 90 days behind and we want the keys to your house, now!

Of course, there are as many reasons for some to be on the street as there are people on the street. A few are there because they choose to be there, but many are there becasue some place along the line, life dealt them such a lousy hand that they simply had to fold, and walk away from the game that we call life. What exactly makes that leap into the abyss happen? I have always tried to figure that out. In all of my sociology courses and psychology courses that I took in college, I spent countess hours trying to understand where that " line" was that pushed some over the edge.

For someone interested in such behavior, Aurora Avenue in Seattle offered a plethora of opportunity to study, ponder, and interpret the data. One of the reasons that I chose the hotel filed was because I wanted my life to count for something. Life is empty if one is only interested in making money, getting that dream home, that special car, and wearing designer clothes. So my chosen field not only allowed me to make money, and be happy in my work, it also allowed me to reach out to those who had needs. It might as simple as listening to their story, offering my sympathy when a loved one had passed, or it might be as deep as taking a risk, and offering them an opportunity for employment and housing to get them off of the street. Such was the case with a couple named Steve and April.

Next-introducing Steve and April-a success story.