Reflections on the coming summer


By Max R. Weller

I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately to how I could put together a book by using the written material I’ve created in my blog since September of 2009, first as a community blogger for a local newspaper in Boulder, CO and then — since declaring my independence in May of 2012 — on my own website. I see the need for it, given the absolute horse**** that passes for useful information on homelessness around America in general and here in particular. You have only to look at the clueless and self-promoting “advocates” for the homeless in the Boulder Bubble to realize it’s out of an abundance of inappropriate compassion and/or a fundraising mode that the usual spokespersons come to the public’s attention.

Besides, when I consider a ridiculous book like “The Girl’s Guide to Homelessness” by Brianna Karp I find myself motivated by a righteous (if I do say so myself) anger.

I’ll consider this more when I’m sitting on the wall at my spot in front of the Mexican restaurant in the 4900 block of N. Broadway, back in my north Boulder neighborhood once again. I’m sure I’ll impose on my good friend who has a background in journalism to assist me, and perhaps even to co-author such a work, since she will have achieved her longtime goal of running in the Boston Marathon (coming up in April). I realize there must be a fair amount of “memoir” but at the end of reading it I want folks to have a better grasp of what really goes on with the homeless shelter/services industry; I might even give this work the title “More Homeless People = More Money” and dedicate it to the crooks who are continually scamming the gullible but goodhearted citizens.

Living outdoors, of course, is what I’m used to even though I’ve found it wiser to seek an indoors refuge in wintertime because of my physical problems. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to get published and have enough cash to buy an old RV that I might park at a Walmart — the difference from Ms. Karp being that I’ve paid my dues by sleeping underneath a tarp for several years . . .



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