There aren't many characters roaming the streets here in the covenant-controlled 'burbs of beige. But I knew a couple when I lived up in the mountains.
One was a totally un-rehabilitable drunk named Walt. A lot of people assumed Walt was homeless, but he had a cabin somewhere. He just didn't like to go there. He preferred wandering the streets and then sleeping wherever he happened to be when he felt the urge. He had the same attitude toward peeing.
People also assumed Walt was poor, but he'd worked a straight job for years and years and had some kind of pension, plus some family money. He just spent it all on beer rather than personal grooming.
His family tried to help him now and again, but he wasn't much interested in being helped. They made sure he had good winter clothes every year so he never froze to death (much to everyone's surprise). Every once in awhile he'd disappear for a month or two, and once he reappeared sporting a pair of crutches. Perhaps those were times when the family was able to intervene a little longer.
I gave him a ride once. I felt sorry for him because it was raining. He asked me to wait a moment, told me he needed to get something by the dumpster. Turns out the something was a someone, a new-found drinking buddy. I was not a happy camper. I felt safe enough giving a ride to a decrepit old guy, but I wasn't crazy about the 40-something new guy. Fortunately, they only wanted to go as far as the next liquor store, about a mile up the hill. The 7-11 where I'd picked them up had cut off their buying privileges. The store up the hill wouldn't sell to Walt anymore, but he was counting on them not knowing the new guy.
I kicked them out of the car as fast as I could and then kept the windows cracked in spite of the rain, the better to eliminate the lingering scent of eau de Walt. Apparently, I was lucky to just have lingering scent. Another woman who'd given him a ride was treated to him peeing on her floorboards.
Everyone I knew had Walt stories. Almost everyone had given him a ride once, and most, like me, decided once was enough. I don't know what's happened to him now. I haven't seen or heard of him for years, so it's possible hard living finally caught up to him. It wouldn't be surprising. He always looked like he was just inches from the grave, and for a dozen years, I kept thinking he can't last long. He kept shuffling along though, year in and year out, in all kinds of weather.
One thing I will say for him, he lived his life on his own terms. It wasn't pretty, but it was his.
18 comments:
It is always amazing to me how guys like Walt seem to make it despite their obvious short-comings. Above all else, they seem to be extremely resilient. Of course it could be like someone once said to me when I was working in Columbus..."if you're going to be dumb, you got to be tough."
i totally agree. wandering the streets drunk is way more fun than hanging out drunk in a cabin. me and walt would probably have good times together. unless he smelled like garbage. then, the deal would be off.
Mike - Thing was, by all accounts, Walt wasn't dumb. I never spent a great deal of time conversing with him, but a customer of mine (another post-worthy character) did. Walt had everything required to live a "normal" sort of life - except the desire to do so.
TeMo - He mostly smelled like stale old-man pee. Except for those occasions when he smelled like fresh old-man pee. Either way, it was pretty rank.
I think that by the time they get to that place they've moved beyond living life on their own terms and are more likely simply hiding from life and pain.
Colonel - To the extent that all addicts use their drug of choice as a mechanism to cope with the pain of life, you're right. But I don't really think hiding is quite the right concept. He was probably actually hiding more all those years when he seemed "normal" since I'm betting he didn't become a hardcore alcoholic overnight. He just got freer about it once began his crazy old man life.
I got stories too tonight, love
I enjoyed meeting your character PF. The painter I wrote about, Cot, was a very intelligent man, who was well read, & when sober, a very interesting person to talk to. His demons were just stronger than his intellect.
Great character, Phoebe, he reminds me of my great Uncle Os (short for Oscar). Sounds like your guy lived his life how he wanted to and I'm not sure I feel sorry for him ... just kinda wonder *what if*, ya know?
You are so lucky he didn't pee or barf in your car.
Who knows, maybe Walt followed you home and he is now living in your attic! he he
KITTY SO CUTE!!! There was a guy in my hometown who lived a very sad life, him and his brother. It's hard to work into a comment, so I think I'll take the time to put a post together about it. Ole Way Out Wayne . . .
When I lived at Disney World we had a lot of characters around.
(ba dum bing!)
Actually, I grew up in mostly larg-ish cities...so drunk homeless people were more the norm than characters. People who WEREN'T drunk and homeless usually stood out more.
...good times...good times...
OK, so you grew up in my hometown and you knew my grandfather, eh?
The Colonel nailed it.
Malach - Good stories!
Meggie - Those demons are powerful. I've known a number of people who could never beat them.
Sara Sue - I feel somewhat sorry for him because alcoholism is a terrible disease. But honestly, I feel more sorry for his family and others who tried to help him.
PrePo - Very lucky! And I'm pretty sure my sniffer would have discovered him if he'd followed me home.
Angryman - Yes, write it up. I love how this evolved into an unofficial meme with people sharing their stories.
Mo...- Old Walt and Goofy. Yeah, I can see the resemblance.
SagHill - Walt was your grandfather? That must of made for some unpleasant Thanksgiving dinners.
You know, thinking about this, it's interesting. I don't want to romanticize Walt because there's nothing romantic about alcoholism and the damage it does to lives and families. And I don't want to demonize him either even though he was pretty nasty smelling and looking. And by some accounts, he could be nasty tempered, although I never witnessed that personally. Mostly I just saw a complete lack of consideration for other people and a non-existent sense of personal boundaries.
In the end, is there any better way to deal with the Walts of the world? Obviously, he suffered from the disease of alcoholism, but he fought any attempts to help him. And anybody who's ever dealt with alcoholics knows you can't force them to get better if they don't want to. The only way to stop him from living the way he did would have been a form of incarceration. And I don't think I want to live in a society that locks people up just for being dirty and annoying and trying to drink themselves to death.
Ms. Fay,
You're right. One can not sober up someone who doesn't want to get sober. Anyone who has ever tried has failed. There has to be some level of willingness on the part of the drunk/addict.
"Mostly I just saw a complete lack of consideration for other people and a non-existent sense of personal boundaries."
Human boundaries are constructions of the individual. Perhaps Walt had boundaries. You just didn't know about them. Was he obligted to live within yours or anyone elses boundaries?
Ditto for his "lack of consideration. You chose to give him a ride. Was he required to smell nice and act a certain way just because you chose to perform an act of kindness upon him?
Regards,
SH
SH - When I gave him a ride, I wasn't upset about the smell or the drunkenness. I fully expected that. What pissed me off was that he suckered me into taking his buddy along. I was a woman alone. If I'd seen his friend, I wouldn't have stopped and offered the ride. And of course, he knew his odds of getting a ride were better if he looked like he was alone. I stopped, and he told me he needed to get his stuff, and the next thing I knew this stranger was climbing into my backseat. He put me into a potentially dangerous situation, and yes, I do consider that a profound lack of consideration and an overstepping of boundaries. Obviously, it didn't turn out dangerous, just annoying, but still, I will never be happy about a strange man jumping into my backseat.
Ms Fay,
Lesson learned eh? When you give a drunk or any other insane person a ride (in whatever fashion), the results are unpredictable. . . to say the least.
Regards,
SH
Sag Hill - Like I said, I only offered him a ride *once.* ;-)
I do learn eventually. Just usually the hard way.
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