Pass Tents
Peachy Keenan
Salvo 10.19.2021
Homeless encampment outside Larchmont Charter School – SelmaA hobo no-go zone reportReferring to feral street people as “our unhoused neighbors” or “a person experiencing homelessness” is an attack on reality. In fact, they are mentally ill—schizophrenics, drug addicts, and alcoholics, usually in combination.
Because I don’t need to teach my kids about the Faces of Meth yet, we call the ghouls standing next to every freeway exit “hobos.” As in, “Don’t look over there, kids! That hobo forgot to put on pants today.”
“Hobo” is a quaint word that recalls ancient memories of journeymen riding railroads trains with banjos on their knees and their few possessions wrapped in kerchiefs on the ends of sticks. Some of you may be lucky enough to know a boomer who still refers to them as bums.
“Bums” is what my mother called them (and still does). Growing up, that’s what everyone called them. Disney composer Randy Newman even immortalized the term in his 1983 song “I Love LA” when he sang “Look at that bum over there, man, he’s down on his knees!”
The song was written in 1983, which gives you an idea of just how long the bums have been plaguing this city. We don’t love it. We, the people experiencing homeness, the housed neighbors, are now the ones down on our knees.
L.A. City Councilman Mike Bonin recently proposed allowing thousands of violent hobos to set up camp at our most popular beaches.
Then this month a family of five was attacked by violent, machete-wielding homeless men at the beach in Malibu. The dad, in an attempt to protect his children, was slashed multiple times and maimed.
<..snip..>
https://americanmind.org/salvo/pass-tents/
