When the bright blue goo-goo bird of welfare and Federal pensions drops an offering on the streets, those who are seriously addicted have a few days around the end of each month when they are completely out of it. In the day time they are nodding out in the park and on the sidewalks; after dark they are active often with their wares on display on the pavements, disappearing only after midnight. It’s as predictable as it is pitiful: distressing to observe and worse to contemplate. It is not something that can be gotten used to. These are our people!
I get a download about this time as well. I wait for it to be sure to buy those things that may be purchased in bulk quantities with less over all expense and fewer runs with a vehicle to the stores. What I learned from my parents was frugality. There is a mighty gap between what I do for myself that is not seen at all on the streets. What did I need to know about all this? There is no list of multiple answers to choose from.
The guiding line is not strictly economics: it is about self identity, self appraisal and a sense of a direction, a path in life that is bigger than getting through the days and nights. The streets are stark in the lessons to be seen and understood. At my present level, I know for sure that our society needs a much bigger idea: the great Universe has included all of us. Seems we humans here have not quite figured it out yet as we continue to re-hash all the common excuses for a homeless population, a heavily addicted population, an unemployable population, a criminal population not all of whom have been to jail.
Then there is the fact of my age and my minor infirmity. Some of those people who are using their mandated job and position in the society to effect some change. I am one of their wins: we have all been winning: I have a place to live where I can get well, make a contribution to some of my people and those who assisted me can feel assured of their value to the whole.