upgraded

the guy who lives in the vacant lot next to my work got a bed.

he's been living there a few weeks.  he has a chair.  he has a side table.  he had a sleeping bag.

now he has a bed.
well, a mattress and box springs to be exact.
he has it wedged into a scraggly tree to provide some camouflage-- for now--
it probably won't be necessary once it's not blinding optic white.

he's invisible, you know.
he's not.
we all see him.
and, in a way, most of us are rooting for him.

there are no less than three charity boxes--  looking vaguely like small dumpsters--  sitting in the lot, which maybe he can access.  many people don't bother to put things properly inside.  the lot is mostly grassy, and someone must come to mow it because it is never overgrown and weedy.  it's nice.  i have always liked it being there.  it is a calming rest spot for my eyes amidst the over-grown "uptown" shiny mixed-usage-retail-residential.  it's like a blind spot the muggles don't see.

there's all this mystique about the lot too.  why is such valuable real estate a perpetual empty lot?

it is owned by someone not selling, that's why.  but who?  why?

i've heard rumors that it's owned by hakeem olajuwon, but i don't know if they are true.

there's a little bit of shell semi-paving, but nothing you could even pretend to call a flat surface.  and what paving there is doesn't get in the way of it's being used in the evenings as a makeshift soccer practice yard.  when i receive deliveries i look across at it, it makes me happy.  except for the no shelter from the elements part, it's a really nice place to live. 

i have this strange desire to go buy him tarps.