Livin Da Vida Homelesso.......A Happy Ending Vicariously

It's about 3:27AM and I have left K.O.T.S. for the night or morning, I should say. I think I slept a total of 2 hours.BECAUSE, I have to sleep along side derelicts with fucked up sleeping habits. On top of that, it rained really hard and long last night at K.O.T.S. luckily I got the last bunk inside although the roof still leaked slowly onto different parts of my body covered by the thin pink sheet provided to me. It gave me a sense of what water boarding would be like and I don't mean out on the ocean, I mean the torture technique. But I still managed to get a decent night's sleep. I was thankfully for not being outside. Now to explain, there are 4 enclosed barracks that house 26 people per barrack, once they are filled up, the rest of the less fortunate sleep outside on the same 2 inch thick green 2 foot by 7 foot mattress used inside.In the back side lays about 15 mats under a white tarp that hangs down about 5 feet off the ground. When it rains, you don't get wet but that is determined by the wind, and of course that too has a drip leak on certain mats, again, of course, on the spot I chose. That's just my luck. I could win a prize if losing was the goal of winning.

Anyway, I miss the rain storm the night before but when I came in last night, I was stuck with picking a spot outside and I have learned that number 10 is the best because it is one mattress over from the edge and the amber streetlight doesn't shine in your eyes all night. But last night I got a mat on number 10 but it was soaked with water, the surface was dry but the internal part of the mattress had sucked up the water from the night before like a sponge. So I tried to go to sleep, unbeknownst to me that, there's water in them there hills, uh..mattresses.After a shower, I slept for about an hour, woke up and my shorts were wet and believe you me, it wasn't a wet dream. I even had a thick pink blanket under me. So I said, O.K. there's nothing I can do, I can live with being wet, deal with it. Then almost entering rem again, those pesky little fuckin mosquitoes decide they are hungry for blood, and of course, mine is the sweetest one, or so it seems at the time while everybody else is snoring away with their little pipe dreams except for this one asshole next to me whom I have never seen before, starts tossin' and turnin', he still has his boots on and every fuckin 2 minutes shuffles his feet across the green vinyl mattress, making a sound like zipping up a zipper on a tent. His legs went up and down every 2 friggin minutes, which drove me nuts!! Back and forth, non stop, all night, into the morning. I can't change spots because KOTS is full, so I am trapped between him, the mosquitoes and the wet mattress. It's 2 AM, I go out to the common area and smoke my last cigarette er... little cheap cigar that look like cigarettes but are 4 times cheaper, a real pack of cigarette for 4 bucks versus 1 dollar for a pack of 305 cigars, the new official smoke of the homeless, thanks to the tax hike in regular cigarettes.I finish my cigaro and I go back to my boat, I mean,my mattress and try to get some kind of sleep, to no avail. The motherfucker next to me is still squirming and the mosquitoes are still swarming. So I lay there defenseless, wondering what am I going to do. I laid there for an hour and said fuck this, I'm out of cigarettes and I can't sleep. I picked up my shit, left KOTS and headed to the gas station on my bike without any lights, where I know they have my cheap cigarettes and bought a Natty Ice because it was still before 4 and I had a dollar and change and 1.34 on my debit card.

And here I am, typing in the dark at a bus stop across the street from McDonald's where I can pick up WiFi for free, especially at 4 in the morning, only knowing 2 people that will read this and that would be Terra (my former bosses roommate) and my KOTS shelter mate, Bobby. Good Morning, Terra and Bobby! I guess it's better than cell mate. Other than that, it's weird writing what I have been through and not knowing in the whole wide world who will come across this. I don't promote it, maybe on Facebook, but it's cathartic. If anything, I like doing it, I do this because I want to, I don't get paid to do it,...yet!

Shift from sleep deprived pissed off to something I had a chance to do for somebody that I will never be able to do until the day I die,... I can only hope.


I met this guy at KOTS about a month a go.
He kind of looks like a gold miner with a bandana without the hat or gold.


He calls himself, Murphy, and has a personality between Yosemite Sam and Foghorn Leghorn and walks like he needs a cane.
He claims, "he from a country called, Texas" his words, not mine. And always asks the question in a fast, slurred tempo depending on how much Vodka he's had to drink, "whatchu gonna be when you grow up, boy?" and "Is you a vet?" He served in Vietnam.
Anyway, how or who. He found out his son, who he hasn't seen since his son was about 3 years old, was on Facebook. The guy who told Murphy didn't stay long at KOTS, so I told Murphy I would try and contact his son through Facebook just give me your son's name, so he did and the hunt was on. I found his son and tried to become friends with him so I could give him the message that his father was looking for him.
His son confirmed me as a friend an sent a message to me asking, "Who are you and how do you know me?"

I replied, "Well, I stay at a homeless shelter in Florida and I met your father there and he found out you were on Facebook and since he doesn't know how to use the computer too good, he told me your name and he asked me to send you a message to see if he could get in contact with you. I'm just trying to help."

I got no reply from Murphy's son

So I shot out another message that read, "Your father wanted me to ask you if you had a phone number that he could reach you at"

4 days later I got a reply with simply his son's telephone number.
I gave it to Murphy and he called his son and they talked for an hour and a half.

It does my heart good to know that at least Murphy had a chance to reunite with his son because I will never get that chance with my own biological father because he was shot to death when I was 6 months old.

I mean, I am by no means Oprah Winfrey, but it is cool to see somebody get a chance to see or at least talk to, a long lost family member, in this case a father and son.

Okay, on that note, the sun is rising and the roosters are crowing...
Ab,ab,ab,ab....that's all folks!!!!

It's about 3:27AM and I have left K.O.T.S. for the night or morning, I should say. I think I slept a total of 2 hours.BECAUSE, I have to sleep along side derelicts with fucked up sleeping habits. On top of that, it rained really hard and long last night at K.O.T.S. luckily I got the last bunk inside although the roof still leaked slowly onto different parts of my body covered by the thin pink sheet provided to me. It gave me a sense of what water boarding would be like and I don't me out on the ocean, I mean the torture technique. But I still managed to get a decent night's sleep. I was thankfully for not being outside. Now to explain, there are 4 enclosed barracks that house 26 people per barrack, once they are filled up, the rest of the less fortunate sleep outside on the same 2 inch thick green 2 foot by 7 foot mattress used inside.In the back side lays about 15 mats under a white tarp that hangs down about 5 feet off the ground. When it rains, you don't get wet but that is determined by the wind, and of course that too has a drip leak on certain mats, again, of course, on the spot I chose. That's just my luck. I could win a prize if losing was the goal of winning. Anyway, I miss the rain storm the night before but when I came in last night, I was stuck with picking a spot outside and I have learned that number 10 is the best because it is one mattress over from the edge and the amber streetlight doesn't shine in your eyes all night. But last night I got a mat on number 10 but it was soaked with water, the surface was dry but the internal part of the mattress had sucked up the water from the night before like a sponge. So I try to go to sleep, unbeknownst to me that, there's water in them there hills, uh..mattresses.After a shower, I slept for about an hour, woke up and my shorts were wet and believe you me, it wasn't a wet dream. I even had a thick pink blanket under me. So I said, O.K. there's nothing I can do, I can live with being wet, deal with it. Then almost entering rem again, so pesky little fuckin mosquitoes decide they are hungry for blood, and of course, mine is the sweetest one, or so it seems at the time while everybody else is snoring away with their little pipe dreams except for this one asshole next to me whom I have never seen before starts tossin' and turnin', he still has his boots on and every fuckin 2 minutes shuffles his feet across the green vinyl mattress, making a sound like zipping up a zipper on a tent. His legs went up and down every 2 friggin minutes, which drove me nuts!! Back and forth, non stop all night into the morning. I can change spots because KOTS is full, so I am trapped between him, the mosquitoes and the wet mattress. It's 2 AM, I go out to the common area and smoke my last cigarette er... little cheap cigar that look like cigarettes but are 4 times cheaper, a real pack of cigarette for 4 bucks versus 1 dollar for a pack of 305 cigars, the new official smoke of the homeless, thanks to the tax hike in regular cigarettes.I finish my cigaro and I go back to my boat, I mean,my mattress and try to get some kind of sleep, to no avail. The motherfucker next to me is still squirming and the mosquitoes are still swarming. So I lay there defenseless, wondering what am I going to do. I laid there for an hour and said fuck this I'm out of cigarettes and I can't sleep. I picked up my shit, left KOTS and headed to the gas station on my bike without any lights, where I know they have my cheap cigarettes and bought a Natty Ice because it was still before 4 and I had a dollar and change and 1.34 on my debit card. And here I am, typing in the dark at a bus stop across the street from McDonald's where I can pick up WiFi for free, especially at 4 in the morning, only knowing 2 people that will read this and that would be Terra (my former bosses roommate) and my KOTS shelter mate, Bobby. Good Morning, Terra and Bobby! I guess it's better than cell mate. Other than that, it's weird writing what I have been through and not knowing in the whole wide world who will come across this. I don't promote it, maybe on Facebook, but it's cathartic. If anything, I like doing it, I do this because I want to, I don't get paid to do it,...yet!
Shift from sleep deprived pissed off to something I had a chance to do for somebody that I will never be able to do until the day I die,... I can only hope.


I met this guy at KOTS about a month a go.
He kind of looks like a gold miner with a bandana without the hat or gold.

He calls himself, Murphy, and has a personality between Yosemite Sam and Foghorn Leghorn and walks like he needs a cane. He claims, "he from a country called, Texas" his words not mine. And always asks the question in a fast, slurred tempo depending on how much Vodka he's had to drink, "whatchu gonna be when you grow up, boy?" and "Is you a vet?" He served in Vietnam. Anyway, how or who. He found out his son, who he hasn't seen since his son was about 3 years old, was on Facebook. The guy who told Murphy didn't stay long at KOTS, so I told Murphy I would try and contact his son through Facebook just give me your son's name, so he did and the hunt was on. I found his son and tried to become friends with him so I could give him the message that his father was looking for him.
His son confirmed me as a friend an sent a message to me asking, "Who are you and how do you know me?"

I replied, "Well, I stay at a homeless shelter in Florida and I met your father there and he found out you were on Facebook and since he doesn't know how to use the computer too good, he told me your name and he asked me to send you a message to see if he could get in contact with you. I'm just trying to help."

I got no reply from Murphy's son

So I shot out another message that read, "Your father wanted me to ask you if you had a phone number that he could reach you at"

4 days later I got a reply with simply his son's telephone number.
I gave it to Murphy and he called his son and they talked for an hour and a half.

It does my heart good to know that at least Murphy had a chance to reunite with his son because I will never get that chance with my own biological father because he was shot to death when I was 6 months old.

I mean, I am by no means Oprah Winfrey, but it is cool to see somebody get a chance to see or at least talk to, a long lost family member, in this case a father and son.

Okay, on that note, the sun is rising and the roosters are crowing...
Ab,ab,ab,ab....that's all folks!!!! Check out my video.."The Rooster Goes...."

Livin Da Vida Homelesso.......A Happy Ending Vicariously

It's about 3:27AM and I have left K.O.T.S. for the night or morning, I should say. I think I slept a total of 2hours.BECAUSE, I have to sleep along side derelicts with fucked up sleeping habits. On top of that, it rained really hard and long last night at K.O.T.S. luckily I got the last bunk inside although the roof still leaked slowly onto different parts of my body covered by the thin pink sheet provided to me. It gave me a sense of what water boarding would be like and I don't me out on the ocean, I mean the torture technique. But I still managed to get a decent night's sleep. I was thankfully for not being outside. Now to explain, there are 4 enclosed barracks that house 26 people per barrack, once they are filled up, the rest of the less fortunate sleep outside on the same 2 inch thick green 2 foot by 7 foot mattress used inside.In the back side lays about 15 mats under a white tarp that hangs down about 5 feet off the ground. When it rains, you don't get wet but that is determined by the wind, and of course that too has a drip leak on certain mats, again, of course, on the spot I chose. That's just my luck. I could win a prize if losing was the goal of winning. Anyway, I miss the rain storm the night before but when I came in last night, I was stuck with picking a spot outside and I have learned that number 10 is the best because it is one mattress over from the edge and the amber streetlight doesn't shine in your eyes all night. But last night I got a mat on number 10 but it was soaked with water, the surface was dry but the internal part of the mattress had sucked up the water from the night before like a sponge. So I try to go to sleep, unbeknownst to me that, there's water in them there hills, uh..mattresses.After a shower, I slept for about an hour, woke up and my shorts were wet and believe you me, it wasn't a wet dream. I even had a thick pink blanket under me. So I said, O.K. there's nothing I can do, I can live with being wet, deal with it. Then almost entering rem again, so pesky little fuckin mosquitoes decide they are hungry for blood, and of course, mine is the sweetest one, or so it seems at the time while everybody else is snoring away with their little pipe dreams except for this one asshole next to me whom I have never seen before starts tossin' and turnin', he still has his boots on and every fuckin 2 minutes shuffles his feet across the green vinyl mattress, making a sound like zipping up a zipper on a tent. His legs went up and down every 2 friggin minutes, which drove me nuts!! Back and forth, non stop all night into the morning. I can change spots because KOTS is full, so I am trapped between him, the mosquitoes and the wet mattress. It's 2 AM, I go out to the common area and smoke my last cigarette er... little cheap cigar that look like cigarettes but are 4 times cheaper, a real pack of cigarette for 4 bucks versus 1 dollar for a pack of 305 cigars, the new official smoke of the homeless, thanks to the tax hike in regular cigarettes.I finish my cigaro and I go back to my boat, I mean,my mattress and try to get some kind of sleep, to no avail. The motherfucker next to me is still squirming and the mosquitoes are still swarming. So I lay there defenseless, wondering what am I going to do. I laid there for an hour and said fuck this I'm out of cigarettes and I can't sleep. I picked up my shit, left KOTS and headed to the gas station on my bike without any lights, where I know they have my cheap cigarettes and bought a Natty Ice because it was still before 4 and I had a dollar and change and 1.34 on my debit card. And here I am, typing in the dark at a bus stop across the street from McDonald's where I can pick up WiFi for free, especially at 4 in the morning, only knowing 2 people that will read this and that would be Terra (my former bosses roommate) and my KOTS shelter mate, Bobby. Good Morning, Terra and Bobby! I guess it's better than cell mate. Other than that, it's weird writing what I have been through and not knowing in the whole wide world who will come across this. I don't promote it, maybe on Facebook, but it's cathartic. If anything, I like doing it, I do this because I want to, I don't get paid to do it,...yet!
Shift from sleep deprived pissed off to something I had a chance to do for somebody that I will never be able to do until the day I die,... I can only hope.


I met this guy at KOTS about a month a go.
He kind of looks like a gold miner with a bandana without the hat or gold.

He calls himself, Murphy, and has a personality between Yosemite Sam and Foghorn Leghorn and walks like he needs a cane. He claims, "he from a country called, Texas" his words not mine. And always asks the question in a fast, slurred tempo depending on how much Vodka he's had to drink, "whatchu gonna be when you grow up, boy?" and "Is you a vet?" He served in Vietnam. Anyway, how or who. He found out his son, who he hasn't seen since his son was about 3 years old, was on Facebook. The guy who told Murphy didn't stay long at KOTS, so I told Murphy I would try and contact his son through Facebook just give me your son's name, so he did and the hunt was on. I found his son and tried to become friends with him so I could give him the message that his father was looking for him.
His son confirmed me as a friend an sent a message to me asking, "Who are you and how do you know me?"

I replied, "Well, I stay at a homeless shelter in Florida and I met your father there and he found out you were on Facebook and since he doesn't know how to use the computer too good, he told me your name and he asked me to send you a message to see if he could get in contact with you. I'm just trying to help."

I got no reply from Murphy's son

Perpetual Problem and a Scary Thought

I woke up in the hospital this morning. I have no idea or recollection of how I got there. I know of and remember drinking beer and vodka yesterday. I can drink beer all day and kind of remember most things. But when I hit the vodka, I seem to "blackout" and can't remember a damn thing. I found my buddy Bobby this morning and he filled me in on the rumors he heard. Then I went to get the bag lunch at the MCC church and one of my fellow homeless acquaintances told me he saw me floating in the water on the side of the seawall on US 1 across from Sears in Key West. He said he stopped to make sure I was breathing, found out I was and moved on. I talked to another homeless cohort and he saw Key West police surrounding me and then the ambulance took me away. The last thing I remember is listening to music in front of Publix and then waking up on a gurney at the Lower Keys Medical Center and a security guard telling me that the sun was coming up and I had to go. I was sick, puking up yellow bile. I had not eaten anything. I got some water from the water fountain and 10 minutes later, I threw that up. I feel like a mack truck ran over me and to add insult to injury, I don't have my bicycle anymore. But a look at the bright side, I thank GOD I still have my laptop. I did get a free ride on the bus, the driver was on a break and the bus door was open and I just walked on. I grabbed the garbage can that was on the bus so I could puke in it, which I eventually did, then we were off to the Senior Center where I get internet access and am typing this blog entry. I am never drinking Vodka again. I can drink beer until the cows come home and not "blackout". So I'm gonna stick with beer and to hell with the vodka. It's a scary thought to think that I can't remember what happened to me. I don't remember anything about the cops showing up or the ambulance or even floating in the water. I have learned my lesson and I count my blessings that I am not in jail or even worse yet, dead. Thank you to the KWPD and the EMTs for helping me out of a bad situation. I should of learned my lesson with drinking Vodka about a month ago when I was in front of Winn-Dixie in Big Pine Key and drinking Vodka straight and had not eaten anything and I "blacked out" again. The ambulance picked me up and transported me to Fisherman's Hospital in Marathon giving me an IV and something to eat. The nurse told me my blood sugar level was down to .24 and that if it reaches 0 then you are dead. That enticing Vodka creeps up on me every time. I need to stick with beer. I am sure some believe I should quit drinking all together but I know that won't happening especially with my current situation of being homeless. I have to have some kind of escape to the reality of my situation....This concludes my recollection of a blackout that I can't remember and a promise to myself that I will not drink Vodka ever again...until next time... My blog will be "featured" on the website localpigeon.com on August 9th, 2011

Rough Rendition of a Daily Routine

For those of you who don't know, I am currently homeless, staying at a shelter in Key West, Florida. It's called K.O.T.S. here's their website www.fkoc.org/emergency_shelter.html I figured I would give a run down on my current daily routine as a homeless person. So those of whom, who wish to want to know, can get a slight glimpse of a unemployed homeless person's journey living in a so called "Paradise". Close enough I guess, and I know it's better than living on the streets of New York City in the winter time. Don't get me wrong, I love New York City but it's much better with a roof over your head.

Well, first, starting from KOTS, you get a wake up call at 6:30 am. You walk out to the "common" area, drop off your pink hand towel and sheet that you were issued the night before, announcing to the monitor the "bunk" you were in ie. B-11 (I seem to be getting that particular "bunk" lately). I put bunks in quotations because they're not really bunk beds, it's a flat row of 14 green mats each side of the tents, which really aren't tents, they are more like half domed army barracks...ANYWAY... Find a white plastic chair to sit down in, get some water, go to the bathroom and smoke a cigarette if I have one. Wait until 7:30am, when they kick everybody out. Get on my bike and ride to the Senior Center where I can get Internet access with my net book. My buddy/running partner, Bobby is 60 and he can get into the senior center, I am not quite old enough. I guess age does have it's benefits. I sit outside while he goes in and gets free coffee, goes on the computer, watches Let's Make A Deal and the Price Is Right and gets lunch at 12 noon.

Now, there's going to be different variations on a typical day, for instance.
Monday thru Wednesday. Bobby and I walk over to the MCC church at precisely 9:40am. It's the only time I ever see Bobby ready and on time, like clockwork. He loves his bag lunch!! We get a bag lunch which you get to pick between a PB&J sandwich or something else like chicken or tuna salad sandwich. They usually also have cookies or crackers and always a can of corn. We both get a can of corn in which I open with a P-38 (can opener) and feed about 20 chickens that roam the area of the senior center. And yes, I am "friends" with the Key West Chickens on Facebook. After the chicken feed, I proceed to continue with my Internet stuff outside while Bobby goes in to watch his game shows. I am trying to find different ways to make money online through affiliate marketing. I currently have over 40 Twitter accounts that have a combined following of over 50,000 followers. It has not been very lucrative yet and I can't quit the job I don't have yet, but I am researching the possibilities. I am banking on the affiliate website Clickbank. I have made a total of 62.14 on clickbank..so far since 2010.

At about 3:30pm, Bobby comes out of his hibernation and then we're off to the soup kitchen for dinner, which is served everyday at 4pm by St. Mary's church on Flagler Avenue. About a 15 minute bike ride. St. Mary's soup kitchen serves an average of 75 people per day. After we eat, we can "hang" out until 5:30pm then we have to move on. We start making our way back to KOTS slowly (another 15 minute bike ride) as they don't open until 6:30pm and nobody can line up before then. The time spent in between depends on how much money we have or can possibly get for beer and cigarettes. We usually somehow get a 4 pack of Natty Ice (Natural Ice), the official beer of the homeless at least in Key West. Then we usually sit on the seawall in the shade along US 1 and drink our 2 beers a piece, which of course, is never enough, in hopes that the cops don't roll up on us. We are somewhat responsible drinkers in that we pour our beers in non see through cups or bottles. My empty bottle of choice is the brown 42 oz Arizona Green Tea bottle and Bobby uses his plastic Circle K cup and he ALWAYS has to have ice in his cup because he is high maintenance. So we have to stop at a local bar or a hotel to get ice. Taking away from my beer-thirty time.

We got lucky one evening sitting on the seawall when this car stops in front of us in the middle of US 1. (Luckily it's a 4 lane road and nobody was behind them) Two people get out and hand us 2 grocery bags of stuff. It was a 12 pack of Coors Lite bottles, 2 half drunk bottles of wine, a half bottle of Skyy vodka and 3 round aluminum to go containers containing pasta with chicken. We were thrilled and thankful! We had a great time! Disregarding the 10pm curfew KOTS has. If you don't get to KOTS by 10pm, you can't get in. So we slept in the mangroves on the other side of the seawall. The cops didn't show up until the alcohol was all gone and it was about 9 o'clock in the morning. I prompted the meeting by trying not to litter and throw away my EMPTY beer can in the trash can. As I looked over to my left, there was a cop watching me throw away the beer can. Caught red handed, I tried to explain it was empty. She pulled her car off of US 1, up along the sidewalk/bike path seawall and walked back to where Bobby was still sleeping next to the seawall. I told him to get up, the cops were coming. She checked our ID's and I had explained that a couple of tourists had dropped off some food for us that they couldn't take on the plane and the police officer said that we couldn't have a picnic on the side of the road and that we had to take it someplace else. All in all, she was a cool cop, I must admit. I understand they have a job to do. Bobby and I know to be polite and not to be an asshole. We both concur that's how most of these idiots wind up in jail, by being an asshole and I just sing the song, I Fought The Law and The Law Won, you can't win. Another close call but I can honestly still say, I have never been to jail. I hope I just didn't jinx it.
Before I leave, I want to thank St.Mary's Soup Kitchen,for feeding me everyday, K.O.T.S, for putting me up and putting up with me, the Senior Center for providing me with internet access (faster speeds there than the library), shade from the sun (the average temp lately has been in the 90's) and not calling the cops on me for loitering and/or trespassing.AND last but most certainly not the least,a thank you to the fine men and women who, work in paradise at the Key West police department, for not throwing me in jail.....

P.S. If you want to know what a Key West rooster sounds like,(It's actually a Big Pine Key rooster..don't tell anybody) check out my YouTube channel, FloridaKeysNature. My latest video called, "The Rooster Goes...." http://youtu.be/E7FZy73OmcM

Until the next adventure kids....Drink a beer, Be polite and Stay out of jail.

This has been a Public Service Message brought to you by the homeless Poetic Drummer.

No Arrest....Yet in Key West

In Key West, if you're homeless, every place you go is trespassing. I bought food from the local Albertson's grocery store from my own food stamp card, sat down at the store on the curb, to consume what I had just bought and a Key West Police officer came up about 10 minutes into the consumption. With my receipt in hand, the officer ordered my co homeless buddy and I to move on without question or she would put us in jail for trespassing. I have since gotten a trespass @ McDonald's AND Citco (gas station)) in one sitting because my buddy, Bobby, is good at panhandling. I can not panhandle to save my life. He is good and ALMOST a professional, getting us money for cigarettes and beer. So it's beneficial for me to stick around and see what he can get. For the record, I have NEVER been to jail. I would hate to go after all these years for trespassing and/or drinking in public, both of which are the most popular offenses of homeless people in Key West. For shits and giggles, here is the most popular website in Monroe County. http://www.keysso.net After you get there, click on Arrest/Mug Shots..Very entertaining, I guess because I probably know, know of, or have seen about a third of the people on there... FYI..Municipal Ordinance Violation means...Drinking in Public.

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Currently in writing mode..Patience is a virtue and good things come to those who wait

I am currently writing and organizing my memoir in which I plan to publish into a book. A recollection of pass memories as I tried to become a rock n roll drummer. Starting with my discovery of the drums in the Florida Keys, moving to San Francisco then on to Hollywood in pursuit of my dream. Recounting my past of playing drums in various bands, becoming a road manager and touring with a band who was signed to Virgin records, moving to Hollywood, CA working at Tower records while living in my van for 3 years. I found it to be an interesting journey although the outcome was not what I was looking for. The band broke up, my employer went out of business and my "home" van was towed away, only to end up back where I started, homeless in my hometown with nothing but memories. I have accepted the fact that it is not the destination but the experience between point A to point B in which one can learn to become a wiser and maybe even a better person. I hope you enjoy my journey as much as I had fun enduring it. It is definitely a roller coaster ride with some parts not for the weak at heart. If anybody can suggest a publisher and/or agent, I would be open to hear any suggestions on the best route on publishing a book. ..Thank you. Kevin Dale Sanders

Poisin Jett Gunz | Sloppy Sessions | CD Baby

Poisin Jett Gunz | Sloppy Sessions | CD Baby

I played drums on this "demo" in 2001 recorded on a reel to reel in San Francisco. There's also a "live" recording floating around that I no longer have in my possession.

In Memory of my friend, Claymation. A celebration of Life. O positive blood

Clay was a fellow homeless friend of mine that I met at KOTS, the Key West homeless shelter. I affectionately nicknamed him, Claymation. He was murdered on Christmas Day. I don't understand, as Clay was a sweet, gentle guy. He would give you the last sip of a drink and he volunteered at the local church. A stand up human being that wouldn't hurt a fly.

The news report of the incident:

One homeless man is dead and another is in jail for killing him. The motive: an dispute over a woman.

According to reports by deputies and detectives, 47 year old William Millstead killed 49 year old Clay Ratcliff Saturday by hitting him in the head with a hammer repeatedly. Millstead was angry because he found out Ratcliff and 26 year old Nina Pintowski were having sexual relations. Millstead said he thought he and Pintowski were in a relationship, and he was upset that his “best friend” Ratcliff had betrayed him.

The incident took place at 6:30 p.m. at a camp set up by the two men on a piece of property commonly called “Enchanted Isle”, just off Highway U.S. One near the entrance to Key Haven. When Deputies Martin Harbin and John Gabay arrived, Pintowski was in the median strip of the highway, flagging them down. After she told them what happened, Sheriff’s Sgt. Charlene Sprinkle-Huff called for assistance from Key West Police, who responded to the scene as well.

Paramedics arrived and declared Ratcliff dead at the scene. Ratcliff had multiple head wounds. Officers from KWPD located Millstead a short distance away and took him in to custody. He was charged with first degree murder and he was booked into jail. The hammer he allegedly used to kill Ratcliff was located in some bushes, where Millstead told detectives he’d thrown it.

This is a Claymation Collaboration, he loved the phase I came up with, Karamatic Justice.

STOLE MY BACKPACK

THAT'S A FACT JACK



EVERYTHING YOU DO

WILL COME BACK TO YOU



I DON'T GIVE A FUCK

IF YOU GET

RUN OVER BY A TRUCK



LOOK OUT FOR

THAT TRUCK CHUCK



KARMATIC JUSTICE



SORRY ABOUT YOUR LUCK

Written by Clay Radcliff and Kevin Dale Sanders on August 22nd, 2010

I hope he is served well...Thank you for the Vodka when I had nothing.. Rest In Peace, my friend.

On a positive note, I found out that my blood type is: O positive. I was hoping for O because apparently it is in short supply and in need, so I feel blessed that I have something that I can give to help somebody and maybe save a life after a tragedy. GOD works in mysterious ways. Thank you Lord!

Almost Homeless and How to Give Blood When You Got Nothing Else

I am waiting for my 3 day eviction notice. I had a job that also paid for my rent. I have since lost my job and as a result of the agreement, my place to live as well. Luckily, Key West has a homeless shelter that I have been to before. The hardest part about staying there is dealing with the other unfortunates that apparently used to be somebody. Attitudes and assholes who take what is given to them for granted. I am waiting for my food stamps to kick in and am so ever grateful for the surrounding churches who have given me food to keep my stomach from growling so I can sleep at night. The hardest thing for me is my nicotine addiction and I like to have a beer, here, there and everywhere but they don't hand those luxuries out at the churches. Thank the lord, I still have my health and my music, without those 2 things, I REALLY have NOTHING!

I was at the library yesterday and saw a sign that needed blood donors. They don't pay you but you do get a T-shirt. I didn't need the T-shirt but I heard they have orange juice and cookies and figured at this current point in my life, I can't help myself right now, why not help somebody else. You can never have too much good karma.

NOW, this was a BIG step for me. Not to help others,I love helping my fellow human being in need. I actually get a great feeling that you can't get anywhere else by doing that, it's a beautiful thing.
No, my problem was, I am deathly afraid of needles. I remember as a kid, my mother was a registered nurse, I would play in the woods and come home with poison oak and my mother insisted on giving me a shot in the ass to clear it up, in which I would cry and raise a fuss but she would sit on the bathroom toilet seat and have me lie across her lap, pants down and ass up and stick that needle in my bum. She was very quick with the needle but it felt like somebody BIG kicked me in the ass as hard as they could.

So anyway, I gathered up my courage to walk up to the bus in the parking lot, filled out the paperwork and I was approved, good to go. I lie down on the gurney, I mean, the blood donor bed thing a ma jiggy thing. It was FREEZING on that bus, I was shaking and one of the blood suckers, huh, takers asked if I was cold or scared and I replied, a little of both. So they gave me a blanket and told me to think about fluffy puppies and bunny rabbits. No, they didn't say that, I just made that up but they did give me a blanket.

As the phlebotomist was pumping up my veins, he asked if I had anything to drink today. I said, no, I haven't had a drink in 3 days, thinking he was talking about alcohol but in fact, when he came back with some Gatorade, he thought I was dehydrated. He knew that just by looking at my veins. Wow. He also gave me a couple bags of chips before he stuck the needle in. I didn't think I looked that homeless.
He did a hell of a job, he got my vein first try, my mom always said I had great veins. I can remember going into surgery and nurses trying to get an IV started and it would take them 3 or 4 painful attempts, this guy was good.

I had heard horror stories about people passing out after giving blood and that added to my anxiety especially since I hadn't eaten much before getting on the blood mobile. But after 15 minutes I was done and felt fine standing up, getting a Coke, chocolate chip cookies and my free T-shirt. The blood taker operator told me to eat a big meal later that night and I had plans to go to this community church called Vineyard in Big Pine where they serve dinner before the service. So I put on my brand new cool shirt and headed over to the church. As I am walking in I hear, "Nice shirt!" and I turn around and it's the girl who signs you up to get your blood taken and said, "I give blood and now you're following me?"

So it was a good day, I hope for 2 things out of that experience, 1) I hope I am Type O blood which is apparently in short supply. 2) I hope my blood can save a life one day. That would be worth all the pain in society.

Thank you and good night, day, afternoon, whenever the hell you are reading this!
I'm tired of typing.......Until we meet again, Happy Trails..I NEED A BEER AND A CIGARETTE!!!