change

Buy a Megaphone Magazine.

Living and working in Gastown, I've gotten to know, or at least recognize, a number of the homeless (or at risk of being homeless) folks who frequent our neighbourhood.  My living room features a large piece of art I bought on the street from Ken Foster.  I always donate to the "condom lady," who walks around giving out condoms, lube and information on sexually transmitted diseases.  I never hesitate to walk around my neighbourhood, at night or any other time of day and have never felt the need to avoid the colourful cast of characters who form such a large part of Gastown's culture. 

There's one guy in particular who always sits outside the Tim Hortons in the bottom of my office building.  He doesn't say much, nor does he carry a sign of any kind.  He just sits cross-legged, sometimes gently rocking back and forth, and waits.  I've occasionally bought him meals, and have seen other people do the same.  I've always had a soft spot for this guy - I'm not sure why.  It may be because he doesn't ask for help, or demand my attention.  But it may also be - and this sounds terribly judgmental of me - because he looks so much like a regular everyday joe. 

It's easy to demonize some of the scarier people who approach you on the Downtown Eastside, with huge haunted eyes, arms riddled with track marks, clothes in rags, who scream obscenities at you when you don't give them what they want.  That's not this guy.  He just seems like a "normal" person who has been dealt so much bad luck that he's buckled under the weight of it.  In truth, all of these people deserve our attention and compassion, all of them have been the victim of personal tragedies.  All of them are living their own version of "normal."  I'm not saying it's right to judge any of them, or to feel more compassion for one than the other.  What I am saying is that this guy who sits outside the Tim Hortons has not become such a shell of his former self that I can't recognize a bit of myself in him.  I think that's why I feel personally affected by him.  

I ran some errands at lunch today, and as I returned to the office, I saw him.  Standing on the corner - the first time in however many years that I've seen him standing up - was Tim Hortons Guy.  He was up, dressed, and selling copies of Megaphone magazine and also the Hope in Shadows calendar.  I did a double take as I walked by him  - was that really him?  It was!  I was almost in the office door before I turned around.  "How much is the calendar," I shouted back to him.  "Twenty," he yelled back.  "And the magazine?"  "Two bucks."  I dug in my purse for my wallet, walking back to him.

"I don't have a twenty," I said apologetically.  "But I'll take a magazine."  He looked at me quizzically.  "Didn't I already sell you a calendar?" he asked.  "No," I said, "but I'm glad you're selling them!"  He grinned.  I handed him my toonie, took my magazine, and went into the building.  I felt so proud of this guy, so happy to see him standing on his own two feet, in every sense of the word, wishing I could tweet/Facebook/text every single person to go and buy a magazine, a calendar, whatever this guy was selling, now that he'd decided he was worth the effort.  It completely made my day.  

 

For those who aren't familiar with Megaphone, it's a street paper, that operates much the same way that the Big Issue program does in the UK.  Sellers buy the magazines for 75 cents.  They sell them for $2, which means they make $1.25 for each magazine they sell.  If you see a vendor, pick one up.  There is a "Find a Vendor" function on the Megaphone website that can point you towards sellers.  

 

Megaphone also released a report this week on homelessness deaths, based on data they had compiled from the BC Coroner's Service.  The average life expectancy for a homeless person in BC is between 40 and 49 years of age, around half the life expectancy for a British Columbian, generally speaking.  There are approximately 16,000 homeless people in the province.  That's a lot of us who are at risk.  If it only costs you $2 to help a person make their life a little better, or a little longer, will you do it?

To London. Again!

Oh, life changes so much from moment to moment, doesn't it?  My life now hardly resembles itself one year ago.  I spent most of 2013 head down, in back to back shows from January to August.  It was a wonderful, exhausting, fulfilling experience.  This year, I've had the stability of working with one client, at one job.  Although I was so happy (and continue to be so happy) to have made the choice to move in-house, I traded my flexibility in terms of working hours for that chance, and I haven't had the same opportunities to be onstage.  But in place of performing, I've had travel.  So. Much. Travel.    

And now - more!  In July I will be heading back to my other home, and spending the summer in Southampton and London, working in my company's UK offices.  In fact, today I've sorted out all my accommodation: our company's seaside flat in Southampton and a cute Brixton studio with an outdoor pool (!) in London.  And I won't be back until September.

This is exciting, of course.  Connecting with friends, having the luxury of time to fall back into my old routines - an opportunity I didn't have when I visited in January/February - it really will be in some ways like coming home.  I'm excited, I really am.  This week I bought my first theatre tickets, to see Carey Mulligan and Bill Nighy in David Hare's

Skylight,

which opened last week to rave reviews.  

I'm also anxious.  I'm sure I sound melodramatic and silly, but I'm leaving Curriecat behind.  For the whole summer.  I have trusted friends who will be staying at my apartment with her, but she and I will be apart for longer than we have in her. whole. life.  We haven't spent more than 10 days apart in 8 years.  Just thinking about it makes me tear up.  I know, I'm a schmuck, but she's my baby. 

I'm trying to be positive and focus on the exciting part of this amazing opportunity I've been given, but it's difficult to leave behind the little animal that has been my immediate family for almost a decade.  Any suggestions on how to keep in touch with my kitty while I'm gone gratefully accepted.

I'm going to miss this face.  Amazing Curriecat portrait copyright Michal Russell,  luvUpets.com.