Fine Line

Nov. 2020

Last week I became the subject one of the most popular musician jokes out there;  

Q  - What do you call a musician who just broke up with his girlfriend?

A – HOMELESS

It could have been worse.   Not being sure where you are going to sleep is unnerving, even when it is short-lived.  Truthfully, my worries were really baseless, probably borne more from a fear of change. It’s not easy to crawl out from underneath the warm covers when the air is cold.  

I am not rich, but I am privileged.   I have a car, a good family, a pension, a house 3,000 miles away and access to plenty of credit.  I guess I could boast that I worked hard for these things and made some good decisions along the way.  The truth is that lots of people make the best decisions they can and work their asses off only to have one or two set backs put them out on the streets or living in car.  The only thing that separates me from them is privilege.

I had bosses who could have easily fired me many times over the 31 years that I worked in my job, but they didn’t.  I was only able to buy my house because of the inheritance that I received after my parents died. I buy my cars at bargain prices from a benevolent brother-in-law and receive gifts of fishing gear from a kind hearted nephew.  Throw in the fact that I am a white male and there is no doubt that I am privileged.  Things could have turned out very different for me and it wouldn’t have taken much; bad timing, an addiction or one poor decision.  It is a fine line.    

Now I sit in my new apartment overlooking the harbor.  It’s clear enough to see Canada and the North Cascades from my window.   I can also clearly see people, mostly young men, walking with loaded back packs, blank stares and predicaments that render them invisible.  It is a fine line