My Shadow thinks that some people’s opinion of themselves and their situation is so low that they become grandiose as a way of compensating.
Mike is probably in his mid-50s; he is handsome with long black hair and a beard. He always wears a black leather jacket and a baseball cap.
For some reason he had taken to following me around. I would occasionally have to shoo him off so I could have some alone time.
At first, he was very quiet with only the hourly comment or two. He would stand there listening as I yacked away at people. As he grew more comfortable he began to open up more.
He likes working on cars especially body repair, and claims to have a bunch of kids somewhere. Eventually he told me his family owned a major oil company in the mid-west.
I had no reason not to believe him and just assumed he was the black sheep. However, one night he got kicked out of his sleeping spot, he was angry and said, “They don’t understand I own the building.” Another time he found a lottery ticket on the ground and was sure it was a winner. When they turned him down he said, “They don’t understand my family started the Oregon lottery.”
After one such statement I replied, “It’s not true. You are just sad because you’re a hobo.” He didn’t respond to that, but I could see he acknowledged it by the look on his face.
I still see Mike most every day, he is such a gentle guy; he hangs out with another gentle human named Paul who is in a wheelchair.
Mike pushes him everywhere he needs to go and they have applied for a low-income apartment together. It makes me happy.
Hobo Metaphysic of the day: There is no us and them only us and we
John wants you to know: “I’m not for the government doing more to help these folks. Their help tends to come with a lot of humiliation, stipulations, and rules, but I am for us finding our hearts again as a people and taking care of our own.”