Hello, ladies & gents. Noticing things that others don’t is tricky to conceptualize, after all, how do you know that you’re noticing something where others don’t? You can’t because you’re not in their minds; you are not privy to their thoughts and mental images. Very often, I’ve been told things like, “Who notices that but you?” or “I never noticed that,” or “who notices these things?” It could just be garden variety boredom that had me paying attention to minute details, or it could be autism at work. Anyway, I’ve always wondered the following:
Have you ever noticed how the arms of some females has a bend at the elbows that forces the lower arm away from their bodies? I’ve always wondered if that was a genetic mutation because, I’m guessing, women were water bearers and caretakers of the home, as opposed to men who were doing the hunting. Walking with buckets of water that didn’t scrape against the body would’ve been a plus in the water carrier days as the containers wouldn’t rub against their legs and slow the carriers down.
Have you also ever noticed how some men walk with their palms facing backwards? That would, of course, make it seem that many moons ago, if their arms were longer and they hunched over when they walked, their knuckles would be dragging on the forest floor. Of course, this is a controversial hypothesis. Here is a quote from Wikipedia: “One theory of the origins of human bipedality is that it evolved from a terrestrial knuckle-walking ancestor. This theory is opposed to the theory that such bipedalism arose from a more generalized arboreal ape ancestor. The terrestrial knuckle-walking theory argues that early hominin wrist and hand bones retain morphological evidence of early knuckle-walking.” And that would make sense especially if they were running or getting into a fight or protecting their clan. Such a stance can be pretty threatening and an enemy would think twice about approaching their women or cache of food.
To come: more casual observations from Robin.
Yay! This is something I’d been meaning to do for years but was often sidelined by depression. ‘Commoner the Vagabond’ is a novel about the trials and tribulations of a homeless man with Asperger’s Syndrome who gets into frequent trouble with the law. His vindication comes in when a TV show about his exploits become popular and he becomes the darling of the downtrodden in his hometown of Seattle.
No, the book isn’t about me, but as they say, write what you know, right? Right now it’s available on Kindle, but hopefully, there’ll be a paperback edition in the future.
In other news, I started creating the chapters for my new book which I plan to call “Homelessness 101: A Clown’s Guide To Survival”. I was going to write it with my homeless friend Travis but he just returned home to his family in the Midwest. I guess I’ll go this one alone. It’ll be more a book of humor than an actual survival guide. That means I’d like illustrations galore. I can attempt that but it’d be better if a professional artist did it as I’m only so-so in that department. I should have “101” finished in about 2-3 months so I’ll start looking for an illustrator pretty soon.
Would you believe those words came out of me after being handed a cold 16oz can of Olympia beer? I was here at the food bank yesterday and this guy offered me a one. I uttered the words above then, after remembering those on the street who do continue to drink regularly, I accept it for them. The stranger actually gave me two cans of Olympia which I then promptly brought to a homeless guy I know who “spanges” outside the QFC up the block. (“Spange” is a portmanteau of “spare” and “change”). I’d say that was a pretty good test as it was the first time I’ve actually held brew in my hand since giving it up July 26, 2014.
In other news I have a new friend now, Travis from Bozeman. He’s pretty cool. Homeless like me. As a matter of fact, quite a few similarities to me except the gay bits. (Nothing a cold pint can’t cure, though). We walked to the Seattle Scrabble Club in UW yesterday and played a few games. I lost both of mine; guess it’s time to dust off an old Scrabble board if I can find one.
Life hasn’t been too bad, really. I have new shoes, new pants, a new shirt, new sweater and a new cap. (Well, they’re used and in good shape but new to me). I recently contacted the Wallingford Chamber of Commerce about sweeping up the main drag through town, 45th St. They haven’t gotten back to me yet but this street can use a good cleaning. It’s not as bad as Thayer St. in Providence but it could use a little straightening.
Yesterday, a drunk couple that spanges outside the QFC broke into a man’s car on Meridian, just down the block from where I park my car. That’s bad because it gives the Wallingford homeless a bad name. The yuppies are moving into town in droves and they’ll use their monetary influence to push anyone out of town who doesn’t suit them, that is, the homeless. Now, I have extra work – make sure the local homeless don’t do anything that jeopardizes my opportunity to stay in Wallingford. I like this town and will most likely die here. Everything’s within easy reach as I’m surround by parks, the food bank and library, restaurants, my doctor’s and dentist’s office, quiet streets to park and sleep on, public showers, etc. No complaints from me. Can’t let the riff raff homeless ruin that for me, though.