Random moments from a strange place (PART ONE)

The land of the free... drunk in Vegas with a Swedish socialist and a U.S Military officer arguing the definition of a successful society, while outside families of illegal Mexicans stood out along the neon strip in the desert's night cold handing out prostitute's business cards. There is something horrible about being given a wallet sized glossy of a naked woman lying spread eagled by a seven year old boy. My first image of this strange new land was Gary Coleman, now in his 40's, frozen smiling... selling property insurance, nailed to the side of a warehouse just outside of LAX.


My headaches... gone... I feel... AWAKE!


Watching myself being watched... the bus trip was long and uncomfortable... sitting at a cafe enjoying the feeling of being outside. Around his neck, the sign read 'Adopt a Jewish Nigger'. He was smiling with a toothless mouth holding a Walgreens bag full of scavenged pizza crusts.

JEWISH NIGGER: "You've gotta smile, I mean look at me. I got nothing but I can still laugh. What's the problem with all these people? How can they enjoy life, if it's all so fucking serious and important? I mean shit man."

We talk and from the third floor of the apartment building across the street a woman sat and her window videotaping the street... filming us... I can never sure if the people are performing in vain, watching themselves in that video screen in their heads and praying for the sideways glance of a stranger or if the camera is are actually rolling.


Is there anybody out there? Brainfried by bus travel and junkfood... too much coffee, too many cigarettes and no sleep (some habits die hard). A new city deserted at 10:30pm on a Sunday night. I have nowhere to sleep and no plan, I'm wandering with my pack on my back and suddenly I am gripped by drunken hands and pulled into the familiar warmth of a city bar.

DEB: 'What's wrong honey?'
ME: 'Um... nothing.'
DEB: 'Don't be shy darl.'
ME: 'I just got here. I've got no place to stay and I need a map.'
DEB: 'Got here? Houston, why would you ever want to come here?'
ME: 'I don't know. I don't know what's here yet.'
Deb: 'Wait here!'

Enter Sherrie... trapped with a 42 year old alcoholic somewhere in the suburbs near a poor black neighbourhood. Barrelling through the morning streets, Sherrie behind the wheel with a 12 pack of Bud Lite under her belt and it's only 9:30 am. It started badly and got worse, in her house I learned to fake being asleep, to ignore the naked, drunk mess pawing at me. Call it prostitution, call it whatever you want. She looked after her great uncle who never left the house and carried a handgun into the toilet, just in case

SHERRIE: 'Look, I've gotta go out, I'll be an hour. Don't leave the room, I haven't told him about you and he'll shoot, I mean he is Texan. Born and raised.'