Quinn in the Middle

Mindy Ross, February 20, 2010

Quinn scoffs when I ask him if he worries about getting hit by a car. "They (meaning his fellow panhandlers) get run over 'cause they get drunk," he says, "that's why they don't like it." He, however, thinks he's too smart to be struck by a careening car; besides, he "makes more in the middle."

Quinn and I are talking in the CVS parking lot on West Valley Parkway. Bluish clouds are drooping overhead and cars are speeding nearby, either to turn into the lot to shop at Albertson's or Big Lots--or to leave it.

As I waited for the light to change at the T-section of West Valley and Home Depot Center, I got fed up with the bums who park themselves on the double-yellow line. I almost hit one once and I thought the middle-aged guy clutching a cardboard sign was too close to my car. It made me nervous.

I thought about the empty streets and parking lots that used to be in the Del Dios neighborhood when I moved here in 1994. Our current homeless problem didn't start with the recession--it began years ago when Interfaith Community Services moved to the west side of Escondido.

Fed up with the way the bum keeps peering into my driver's side window, I roll the window down to ask him if the police ever get on him for standing in the middle of the street.

He reminds me of a scroungy Jim Belushi when he says, "Oh yeah, all the time."

I ask what they do about it, but the light changes. Amidst the confusion, the car behind me gives me a toot. I tell him I'll pull over and he instructs me to meet him in the parking lot.

When he catches up, he talks as if I'm the only person who has listened to him in years. He tells me about the seven tickets the cops have given him. "When the warrants come up," he says, I spend three days in jail. Then I eat all I can."

Quinn is an unemployed machinist who has been homeless for two years. His brow furrows with frustration as he talks about his inability to find a job. "If I could get hired somewhere," he says, "I could start at the bottom and work my way up."

He tells me some jackass offered him an $8 per hour job, but subsequently gave it away to Mexicans; and, he's got worse stories.

One guy drove by and shouted, "You need a bullet in the head!"

"Go ahead!" Quinn shouted back. "What have I got to lose?"

Another said, "You need your ass kicked. Get a job!"

Quinn asked, "Know where I can get one?"

The grief he endures seems to be worth the trouble. When the weather is good, he makes up to sixty dollars a day. He then rents a room, showers and washes his clothes. But even this has its drawbacks--a warm, clean bed is of little comfort when he knows that in just a few hours, he'll be back out on the street.

Doesn't he have anyone to help him? His eyes redden and gloss over when I ask the question. "After my mom died," he says, "my dad said, 'I don't care if you live or die. If I see you around here again, I'll call the cops."

"Why?"

"He didn't think I was his son. My brother wasn't his and he didn't think I was either."

Now I'm about to cry--even more so when he talks about his mom, who died from throat cancer. "She was my best friend," he says, sadly. And I can believe it. Quinn is a gentle, kind-hearted soul.

On most nights, he can't afford a room, so he sleeps under the I-15 bridge on the "Cal Trans" side--away from other transients and where he can keep his space clean. He grins when he thinks about helping cops catch some taggers who were spraypainting the new wall near the bike path, just a few nights ago. "I prevented them from messing it up," he says proudly. I agree when he says Escondido is a "beautiful, little city."

When I next see Quinn, he's stomping his feet and shaking rain out of his hair. I remember he said he doesn't make much during bad weather, so I hurry home to put together a makeshift dinner for him. It's only peanut butter and jelly, an apple and a small bag of chips, but for one night at least, he'll know that someone cares.

CuddleFish March 5, 2010 @ 2:36 p.m.

Another win, congratulations, Mindy. :)

PistolPete March 5, 2010 @ 3:02 p.m.

Congrats, Mindy. You get more respect from me because you put your money where your mouth is.

shizzyfinn March 12, 2010 @ 11:36 p.m.

I enjoyed this post a lot, even if I cringed a bit at the use of the word "bum." Thanks for sharing Quinn's story.

CuddleFish March 13, 2010 @ 9:40 a.m.

Assuming for a moment this account is true, be curious to know why you felt you had to give Quinn money, and how much you actually gave him.

David Dodd March 13, 2010 @ 11:32 a.m.

"Another win, congratulations, Mindy. :)

By CuddleFish 2:36 p.m., Mar 5, 2010 >"

One week later...

"Assuming for a moment this account is true, be curious to know why you felt you had to give Quinn money, and how much you actually gave him.

By CuddleFish 9:40 a.m., Mar 13, 2010 >"

CF, I mostly ignore your comments. I don't wake up in the morning wondering where I can go pick a fight, I am very lucky in that I have great family and friends, no reason to wish ill will toward anyone, and basically I enjoy a good mood most of the time. I wake up sometimes and hit my favorite sites to read up, I'm an avid reader. One thing I love about the Reader is that they give out these awards, because I'm not always fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time and read the latest blog entry. I missed this one. It's good, it has elements of charity and humility, two of my favorite ingredients for a good story.

I'm glad I didn't ignore that last comment of yours, I wouldn't have seen this piece. I owe you for that. Sincerely, thanks for commenting, it drew me in here. I might have missed it otherwise.

But, you know, I then read your first comment. And now your latest. So, in a week's time, for no apparent reason, you've decided that Quinn may be a figment of Mindy's imagination, and that the important thing is to question her capacity for generosity and demand a receipt?

Okay. Now, somewhere in this website you've also decided that I owe you an apology, and I owe everyone here an explanation as to why I think you are insane enough to be a threat to me or my family. Tell you what. You explain how your mind worked between posting comment number 1 here last week and comment number 6 this morning - the thought process involved, I mean, if you're truly a rational human being then I'm sure you'll come up with an explanation that doesn't involve mental illness in some way. Provide that, and then perhaps I'll feel the need to explain to everyone why I thought you were a lunatic.

David Dodd March 14, 2010 @ 12:17 a.m.

Yeah, I grew up in Los Angeles and recorded an album in one of those studios in Hollywood. It's weird. You go in at night, not really noticing anything, avoiding the prostitutes and drug addicts, and you leave in the morning, out the back door, and it's surreal. The sunlight hits you and you look around and realize it isn't much different than South El Monte or the ass-end of Midtown or Flint, Michigan. There are no signs anywhere. You would never know there is anything going on in those buildings, but there are.

I have successfully avoided famous people. My claims to their fame are far and few between. I was invited to join a band as a back-up performer, in high school, a band that eventually went on to become "Journey". I talked to Delaney Bramlett on the telephone one time, he asked me to send him a tape of myself (I didn't, doh!). And that band I was in in the end was invited to record with a band called, "Toto", except Toto decided to sing something about rains in Africa and became all famous and that was that. And I wore Liberace's jacket once. A very heavy coat for such an effeminate man.

My brother was far more outgoing. He shot skeet with Robert Stack, had breakfast with James Garner. He was a damned smooth talker. I think I was a better listener back in those days. I have no idea where we stand now, but my brother can't write to save his life.

The really cool thing is when I take that album out now and blow the dust off of it and play it for my daughter. "Dad, that was you?" "Yeah, baby, that was me." And that makes every moment I spent in that crappy town worth the trouble. I hated Los Angeles. But there certainly are lessons there. I learned a lot of them.

CuddleFish March 14, 2010 @ 12:24 a.m.

Well, little blessed one, one more shot at this and then I'm done being amused at your expense. :)

See, here's the problem when you lie. People tend never to believe anything you say afterwards. It's a credibility thing. So, as we all know, you lied about having a romantic affair with Michael Jackson, coming out with your version of events around the time of his death. Prior to his death, as I recall, you denied having ever met him. And last, when I asked whether you had any sort of proof, letters, photos, you said nothing. Now all these months later you expect people to believe this new rationale you've concocted, that Hollywood types don't like their picture taken with their friends. Really?? Then you must be the only friend that doesn't take pictures with Hollywood types because I see those types of pictures on walls, in mags, in scrap books, all the time. And further, I note that you no longer mention MJ in your (delusional?) ramblings, I mean, here you have this bombshell memoir you wrote and poof, nothing more to say about it. At the time I thought you were being smart: The number one rule about holes, when you are in one, stop digging. Now I see you were just waiting to see if anyone forgot you are a liar. We come to Quinn. The account you wrote got no comments after you posted it. No one wrote to say, great reporting of a true event, even after you won the award. I posted to congratulate you on another Reader win, without making any mention of whether I believed your story or not. Since you came back to say/imply that you had gone out of your way to share your winnings with Quinn, I asked out of curiousity, why you felt you had to give Quinn money, and you state because you "exploited" him. You sidestepped my second question, which was how much you gave him, assuming you actually did give him money, because you seemed to imply that you gave him the entire amount.

Last, you may feel honored to meet celebrities; I personally feel amused by celebrities and wouldn't bother to meet most of them if they were around the corner. I mentioned in a thread that I had not met any "stars;" what I didn't mention was that I've had opportunities and invitations to meet them, but wasn't interested. I have met, known, lived with famous people, people I greatly admired, but they weren't Hollywood types.

Oh and as for my working career, dear girl, how you do jump to conclusions! But thank you for your concern! So here's what we are going to do. I was being polite in congratulating you on your wins, something I do for all the Reader winners. Next time, I'll pass. :)

MsGrant March 14, 2010 @ 9:43 a.m.

Are you checking off which neighborhood you want it to post to every time you edit? I did that a couple of times. Or I should say I didn't do that. If you are going back and tweaking your blog, you have to repost it to your neighborhood of choice. It does not automatically save the information when you edit.

magicsfive March 14, 2010 @ 1:52 p.m.

I enjoyed this, Mindy, and congratulations :)

David Dodd March 14, 2010 @ 4:21 p.m.

Well, back in those days there were no CD's, and in fact, very little in the way of digital media. The master was on a reel, no idea who wound up with it. My recordings of that band are on very worn cassette tapes. I could probably figure out a way to get them into a digital file (I'm sure there are places that do that sort of thing for a fee), but a lot of the quality would be lost. That stuff is better off as a good memory anyway.

Things have changed a lot in a very short time. Back then we had sessions and an engineer in the studio with a huge mixer, and everything went on to a master, a reel, and after we mixed everything down, you could run off cassette tape copies for promotional purposes. I have no idea what equipment is used these days, but no doubt it's digital. It's like instant music. It's amazing to think that there are people who make a living making music from their computer, playing no real musical instrument at all, and some don't even know how to read music. And the music isn't bad at all.

antigeekess March 14, 2010 @ 5 p.m.

"It's amazing to think that there are people who make a living making music from their computer, playing no real musical instrument at all, and some don't even know how to read music. And the music isn't bad at all."

It's twue. Don't know if you caught it when I posted this link a few months back, for example: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TP2P_dmY0PY

I think it's groovy. In other news, the book associated with this video, which was selling for major bucks back then, has since had a second printing and is now extremely affordable.

I read it, reviewed it on Amazon, and been emailing a bit with the author. Very "Celestine Prophecy." Certainly not "great litterachaw," but very cool.

These studios look the same in any city, I think. I had an audition in one up here in SF a few years back, and they just looked like warehouses, storage units or something. No signs, no nothing. As I recall, the one I visited up in either Clairemont or Kearney Mesa in SD looked just the same.

And yes, my dear beanieblanco, ya makes a CD now. No Victrola required.

David Dodd March 14, 2010 @ 6:29 p.m.

Unfortunately, AG, I cant get sound on that. This PC, for the moment, has decided that it doesn't have an audio device. Of course, it does have an audio device and driver and tells me that everything is functioning properly, but obviously it isn't. I can download stuff and listen to it just fine, but system sounds and anything on the internet is tacit. I had it fixed at one point, but it insists on reverting back.

When I went to that particular studio, I was young, but I had been to others, elsewhere - and some were marked clearly and others didn't bother, but that was the first time recording in Hollywood, I guess I expected it to be obvious.

One of my favorite stories about the morning after recording comes from Joe Walsh. After the Eagle's days were initially over, he enjoyed a fine solo career. He was asked about the curious title of his 1987 album, "Got Any Gum?"

He related that a lot of the time musicians record at night, all night, and then they leave in the morning. So, one particular time after a recording session of that album, he splits into the morning daylight, onto an otherwise unremarkable backstreet in Hollywood, walking to where he had parked. Along the way, stumbling up the sidewalk toward Walsh, a man who was obviously indigent approached with an outstretched palm. Walsh, feeling pity on the man, reached into his pocket and began to gather some change for him.

"Oh, no man, I don't need any money. Got any Gum?"

True story.

antigeekess March 14, 2010 @ 7 p.m.

Bummer on the sound. You sure you're not at Board's computer? :)

Gum is useful when you're drunk & dealing with the po-pos. Chewy knew that.

OMG/LOL! Check it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6P01f...

Victrola & everythang.

Oh crap. That's right. No sound.

(That Victrola, OTOH, probably still works fine.)

David Dodd March 14, 2010 @ 7:18 p.m.

Yeah, I immediately thought about the Board connection when I wrote it. His excuse is that he didn't have any speakers. My excuse is that this laptop is old and senile. Or else the owner is old and senile. Or both.

I'd heard that about gum, never had to test it. Just thought it was great that Walsh has that sense of humor. All of the pretentiousness in naming an album! We never got signed, so it wasn't an issue for us, but I think we all decided that "Copyright 1981" was as good as anything else.

I won't relate the band name for several reasons, not the least of which is embarrassing myself or my ex band-mates, but they threw out my vote on the band's name: The Big F&#@ing Rats With D&@!s This Long. I figured we could suck, musically, and still draw a crowd based on the sheer audacity of the name alone. I reckon I'm not the marketing genius I once thought I was.

And my brother sold my record collection a long time ago, he used to be a real turd. So, no need for the turn table. But, keeping in step with my age, I can gave accross the livingroom here and see hundreds of cassette tapes left over from those days before the compact disk.

David Dodd March 14, 2010 @ 7:20 p.m.

gave s/b gaze, weird typo.

antigeekess March 14, 2010 @ 10 p.m.

LOL @ BRFwDTL, gringo. Can't believe they didn't go for it. Although it really should be Chinchillas instead of rats.

And I ain't eeeeeven gonna post the link, because, well....just because. Look it up on YouTube, if you're curious.

"If I could do that, I'd never leave the f***in' house!" -- Andrew Dice Clay

David Dodd March 14, 2010 @ 10:34 p.m.

Yeah, those bastards had no sense of humor, AG. Or maybe an overly-active sense of decency. We really didn't have a group leader, although I was pretty headstrong and so was the bass player (where-abouts unknown with that guy, he could've gotten into jazz though, that was his first love), but the lead guitarist was someone we all looked up to and he named the band. That lead guitarist went on to do other things academically, I posted a couple of things about him in Daniels' blog entry about satire.

The drummer wasn't our original drummer, the first guy was a friend of mine from high school, who quit because of a demanding girlfriend that wound up screwing someone else behind his back anyway. Don't know what happened to that guy, last I heard he married a nice Chinese girl and bought into the suburban dream.

The second drummer was a USC guy (like the lead guitarist), a music major. He was a crappy drummer, but it wasn't his original instrument, piano was, as was mine. Nice guy. Smart, too. No idea where he is. Hope his drumming has improved.

The rhythm guitar player I met in college, he's the one responsible for starting that band. I was fresh out of the last band, I played with a pretty damned good guitar player in his own right, a high school chum. I've seen his picture recently, his hair is almost as long as mine is now (but it's comming off Tuesday, I'm tired of it). Anyway, this college friend - great family, really good guy - now works for a defense contractor last I heard.

The bass player, as I mentioned, no idea. We were both head strong and opposite-thinking at times. We got into a pretty heated argument one particular rehearsal, and in an emotional-yet-conciliatory gesture I offered up the notion that he had talent up the butt. Needless to say, that became an infamous inside joke. And, in all likelihood, should have had something to do with the name of the band, but no dice (comedic reference intended).

antigeekess March 14, 2010 @ 10:50 p.m.

Too bad they were a humorless bunch. Also too bad it wasn't religious music.

(Just because I've always thought "The Mighty Throbbing Pillars of Gospel Joy" is a great name for a Xian band.)

David Dodd March 14, 2010 @ 11:03 p.m.

Okay not only is that awesome, it almost makes me want to start another band ;)

I should probably retract the term humorless, because that lead guitarist did go on to write about The Simpsons, even if it was in an academic way. But "The Mighty Throbbing Pillars of Gospel Joy" is fantastic. One rehearsal space we rented was filled with different bands, one of which was a Christian rock band that called themselves, "White Throne". Not as funny as the Throbbing Pillars, and while they didn't see why we would snicker at their pious intent (talk about humorless), I secretly wished for their success.

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