Over a year ago, I got this wild hair up my ass that I wanted to create a reality show full of jack assery, renegade art, and hidden attempts at consciousness. We called the show ..! (Dot Dot Blam)
First project: Pimp my Kart. A spoof on the MTV show "Pimp my Car" but this was going to be the ultimate robo cart for one lucky homeless person.
First order of business: Find a cart.
With my Dad's SUV, a set of buldging biceps, sheer will, and stupidity (which seems to be the recipe for awesomely bad ideas across the nation), I drove off into the night one evening cruising my neighborhood for a cart. Within moments, bam! I stole a shopping cart (god those things are heavy), threw it into my dad's SUV (again, god those things are heavy)...found another shopping cart that looked way cooler (still heavy), proceeded to steal it, and then dumped it all at my friends' home, the Ant Farm. Meanwhile I gathered the crew of merry maniacs: myself, Jesselynn, Ross, AT, Shrine, Smitty, and Terry, and we went straight to Skid Row.
The purpose: To find one person on the Skid with the ability to dream of a new possibility for themselves.
The Question: With all the time and resources in the world, what would you do?
EVERYONE: I would buy stuff...
US: Seriously? But you could fly to the moon on a unicorn spaceship, blowing confetti out of your ass! Or you could buy the Cheetoh Factory and have a sexy model in a Chester Cheetoh mask, feeding you fresh hot Cheetoh's while you sit in your gold rimmed tub....or...or...
EVERYONE: No, I would buy stuff...
US: Oh....ok.
Apparently living in the skid and the inability to dream big are directly correlated.
Finally there is Karina....a 6’6” African American woman, who used to be a male, who wore 6” platforms in Canary Yellow, a tight hot pink skirt, and who owned the perkiest rack that any Everest hiker would be proud to scale. The short description would be, Karina is a crack whore tranny. I don’t mean to be harsh but she did smoke crack, and she did whore around...but the other thing that she did, was she effing dreamed! She had aspirations! Holy crap...the first person that didn’t say, “I’d buy me a beeeeennnzzz.” Ahhhh. How refeshing. We found our gal.
That evening all of us hurled our bodies into the juiciest dumpsters we could find, diving for local treasure. I have to admit, I was hesitant at first. Tho I had picked over random furniture and lamps left in the streets, I had never actually hurtled my body into a sour smelling dumpster, and willingly dug around through some slop, in the hopeful search for something amazing.
In the end we emerged with random text books, hangars, some cans, and a set of cherub book ends. Between that, $100 from my pocket and the genius work of Shrine and the Ant Farm boys, this robo cart was something to be proud of. It had rugged terrain wheels, solar powered lights, a full on vanity with a full length mirror, a pull out bed (complete with princess bedding, bed skirt and a Shrine painted head board), pull out chair, shelving, a car alarm, sun umbrella, stereo, portable shower, pull out clothing rack and complete with a Shrine paint job....this cart was pimp! Ready to go in any situation.
With the understanding that Karina was a nomad, we rushed to turn this cart around within a matter of 2 days. Finally ready to go, our crew hauled the thing into the back of Ross's truck...looking like the Taj Mahal of carts. I have to admit, it was pretty ridiculous. Anxious to give her the cart, we throw a blanket over it, and hold confetti poppers in our hands, ready for the big reveal.
But the reveal never happened. In fact, as soon as we arrived back at Skid Row, things had already started heading south. As we pulled up to her spot, the four of us awkwardly, pulled the cart off the truck and started walking down the street with this ridiculously massive robo cart. Immediately the judgement and leering began.
"Why do all these white folks think they can come down to the skid and make money off their stupid documentaries about us? Where's my fuckin' money?"
"What the fuck is that thing? You trying to get a nigga beat?"
"Look at these fuckin' fools. Trying to give out hand outs like they can help us."
The air was starting to get thick with discomfort as we all stared ahead and tried to find Karina. We looked high and low, but alas...no Karina. However, in the exact spot that we had hoped to find her, there happened to be two men hiding under a sleeping bag. They slowly emerged from under the sleeping bag with a waft of smoke billowing out and a crack pipe in hand.
"Where's Karina?" I ask.
"Karina? Karina went to jail! Got caught selling crack."
And there it was. The swift and simple truth. Karina went to jail for crack. Damn. I guess that's what happens on the skid. Well now what? What the fuck were we going to do with that dream cart we made SPECIFICALLY for her / him, dressed to the nines in ALL hot pink, with a pink head board, pink bedding with ruffles, and a pink vanity mirror? Now we have to find a new owner to don this to and it wasn't going to be easy. We run around skid row for a while longer towing around the the Taj Mahal of carts, sweating from embarrassment as we dodge the verbal lacerations from skeptical bystanders. We interview a few more people, one of which just ran off screaming, another that held us in the death grips of his nonsensical jibber jabber, and another that told us tall tales of being a famous singer, then sounded like a live pig going down a garbage disposal.
Finally we meet a family that seem to have their wits about them. It's evident that they must have a mild amount of clarity, because they just sat there laughing at us as we bobbed from one person to another.
When we finally approached them, I guess we went to class that day, because we got schooled. We come to discover that if we were to actually give Karina the cart, we would be doing her a major disservice. She'd likely get her ass kicked for what it was worth. Beaten up and then mugged in the middle of the night. Great.
This is right about the time that I start to feel like an ignorant asshole. Here I am, this beamer driving valley girl, galloping into skid row with my perfectly maintained hair and this silly robo cart, thinking that my privileged self was going to "help" someone...what an asshole.
I was totally embarrassed and ashamed that I had dragged so many people into this vision. I felt so foolish, thinking that this was going to be a fun, light hearted project, underhandedly bringing awareness to the young teens of the "Jack Ass" republic, and then having a very heavy dose of reality slap me across the face.
I went home defeated that day, and brought the cart to my home, where it lived for the next year and a half. I didn't know what to do with it. All I wanted to do, was ignore it and pretend that it never happened.
Finally, my sister had had enough and made it VERY clear that I had to toss the eye sore. Ugh, I finally had to figure this beast out. So I bribe my sweet boyfriend Jade with promises of frozen yogurt and blow jobs to help me tow this thing downtown. With no real plan still, we throw the cart in the back of his car and aimlessly drive around downtown to try and find a junk yard or a quiet alley to quickly dump it and run...maybe it would find an owner that would love it.
Well as we drive, we fly by this homeless man standing by the side of the road. I quickly tell Jade to stop the car and back up, which he does dutifully. We came to a screeching hault, the kind that you really only hear in movies, and punch the car back in reverse.
I yell out the car window, "Do you want a free cart?"
"Hugh?" He says as he's hunched over.
"Do you want a free cart?"
"Hugh?" He says still hunched over and with his face now twisted.
What the heck is this guy's problem? Can he not hear me or is he senile?
"I SAAAAID, DO YOU WANT A FREE CART?"
Then I see his hand pull away from behind his bum with a dirty tissue in hand.... Oh....how embarrassing. We full on reversed the car into this guy's private time, and bombarded him with questions as he's trying to drop a deuce....yeesh.
"Well" he says as he drops his poopy tissue by his side "Yes, I want a cart."
Meet Neil. Nice guy that has been on the streets for too long... We shake hands, I'm pretty sure with the hand he just wiped his ass with...yeah...yeah now that i think of it, it was that hand. We pull out the cart, and at this point it is a mere shell of what it was. We pretty much stripped the beauty of most of it's finer qualities. Such a shame too, because had I known I was going to meet Neil, I would have made sure that all the appropriate bling and accoutremants were there. But it's still a rugged terrain cart, with the angel statuettesl strapped to the front, and a car alarm in case someone tried to steal his shit in the middle of the night. I show him how to pull out his full length cot with the pink ruffly bed skirt....and...and...he's thrilled! Hooray! Somebody likes it! He actually likes it! This made me happier than you could ever imagine.
He was earnestly grateful and so was I. Grateful to not have to be guilt ridden by tossing a dream on the streets. Grateful that the time and effort of my pals went somewhere that I can attach a face to. Grateful that it wasn't another project that ended up amounting to nothing. Grateful to have honestly made someone happy that day. We hugged, pretty sure still with that dooky hand still, and departed. It was short and sweet.
Ahhhh...resolution.
It feels so damn good...especially when you're eating it up with a bowl of frozen yogurt.
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