Tampa Florida: Land Of The Lost..

... and that is putting it mildly, my friends.
I've lived here three times since the early eighties and it has turned worse in this over-grown town each time that I come here. I'm speaking of the work here, the people, and the attitude in this shithole.
Tampa tries to make itself llok like a modern town with all of the trappings of a big city, but once you have been here for any lenght of time, and not as a tourist, you soon see that this place is one big rat-hole!
One of the bigger problems here in the Tampa Bay area, other than the Rays, is the county and the city's way in which they deal with the homeless. Believe me, there are many homeless in the Tampa area and they are spread out all over the place. This is particularly true in the Northern section of the town, as well as downtown, and the South side. Every where that you go in Tampa is a haven for pan-handlers and such. Some of these folks are unable to work, or to find any work in the first place. I have a soft spot for those types. But, the fact is that many of the beggers are just to damned lazy to go out and look for work. That takes effort and doing such a thing would take away from their beer drinking time. In some cases, that is all of the day. I have no sympathy what-so-ever for those types of homeless. With the drinkers, you may as well throw in the crack-heads, and the pill-poppers. these fucks always are broke in the mornings and are out bumbing smokes and what ever.
I write all of this for one reason. Since I've been here the past few months, I've taken one of these homeless alcoholics under my wings, so to speak, just to see if I could get them to get their act together. To see how bad that they really wanted to quit and to get off of the streets.
I am not some rookie at this type of thing folks. Having been an alcoholic and a drug addict, and on the streets myself once, I know what kind of effort and work that it can take to get oneself off of the shit and off of the streets. It ain't easy, but, you have to really want to do it for yourself. If you do not, then there is no one who can help you no matter what they try to do for you.
With that in mind, my next post will introduce you to Anna, an alcoholic who lives on the streets of Tampa, and one person who surely has no business being in her situation. Anna is one of those drinkers who you can't talk to without her getting defensive and using the " it's not my fault " excuse. One who wants to change things in her life, but does nothing to make things happen. I think that you will find her an interesting study, and story. Stay tuned.

Tampa Homeless/ Police Harassment

Yes, it has been a few days since I last posted anything. There is a very good reason for that, trust me. How about a case of pneumonia? I've been laid up and feeling very miserable for just over a week. Being a diabetic doesn't help, either.
Anyway, on to the topic at hand. This will be the shortened version.
I've been in Tampa for slightly more than 6 weeks, and I've been stopped by the police on the North side of town for a total of 5 times already. Five fucking times! For what? How about for just hanging around and talking to some of the homeless people out on the streets, who have happened to be drinking at the time. Open containers of beer or whatever are a crime in the city of Tampa. Apparently, so is being around someone with a container in their hand or close by.
I'll have a story for you the next time that I post which will show you just how hard up the Tampa Police Department is in writing tickets and arresting citizens for having an " open Container." One officer tried his best to get me to say that an empty bottle belonged to me. This was after the real drinkers had told the idiot that I do not drink! Stay tuned!

Riches For The Corrupt, Crumbs For The Rest Of Us

From ( http://www.alternet.org/workplace/141275/we_offer_riches_and_perks_for_corrupt_cronies%2C_and_crumbs_for_everyone_else/)

We Offer Riches and Perks for Corrupt Cronies, and Crumbs for Everyone Else

By Chris Hedges, Truthdig. Posted July 14, 2009.
If you defraud banks and customers of billions, you get taxpayer money. But if you are poor like Tearyan Brown of Trenton, N.J., you are in trouble.
Tearyan Brown became a father when he was 16. He did what a lot of inner-city kids desperate to make money do. He sold drugs. He was arrested and sent to jail three years later for dealing marijuana and PCP on the streets of Trenton, N.J., mostly to white kids driving in from the suburbs. It was a job which saw him robbed at gunpoint and stabbed in the chest. But it made him about $1,400 a week.
Brown, when he got out after three and a half years, was done with street life. He got a job as a security guard and then as a fork lift operator. He eventually made about $30,000 a year. He shepherded his son through high school, then college and a master’s degree. His boy, now 24, is a high school teacher in Texas. Brown would not leave the streets of Trenton but his son would. It made him proud. It gave him hope.
And then one morning in 2005 when he was visiting his mother’s house the cops showed up. He saw the cruiser and the officers standing on his mother’s porch. He hurried down the block toward the home to see what was wrong. What was wrong was him. On the basis of a police photograph, he had been identified by an 82-year-old woman as the man who had robbed her of $9 at gunpoint a few hours earlier. The only other witness to the crime insisted the elderly victim was confused. The witness told the police Brown was innocent. Brown’s friends said Brown was with them when the robbery took place.
“Why would I rob a woman for $9,” he asks me. “I had been paid the day before. I had not committed a crime in 20 years. It didn’t make any sense.”
He was again sent to jail. But this time he was charged with armed robbery. If convicted, he would be locked away for many years. His grown son and his three young boys would live, as he had, without the presence of a father. The little ones—11-year-old twins and a 10-year-old—would be adults when he got out. When he met with his state-appointed attorney, the lawyer, like most state-appointed attorneys, pushed for accepting a plea bargain, one that would see him behind bars for at least the next decade. Brown pulled the pictures of his children out of his wallet, laid the pictures carefully on the table in front of the lawyer, looked at the faces of his children and broke down in tears. He shook and sobbed. It was a hard thing to do for a man who stands nearly 6 feet tall and weights 210 pounds and has coped with a lot in his life.
“I didn’t do nothing,” he choked out to the lawyer.
He refused the plea bargain offer. He sat in jail for the next two years before getting a trial. It was a time of deep despair. Jail had changed since he had last been incarcerated. The facilities were overcrowded, with inmates sleeping in corridors and on the floor. The gangs taunted those who, like Brown, were not affiliated with a gang. Gang members knocked trays of food to the floor. They pissed on mattresses. They stole canteen items and commissary orders. And there was nothing the victims could do about it.
“See this,” he says to me in a dimly lit coffee shop in downtown Trenton as he rolls up the right sleeve of his T-shirt. “It’s the grim reaper. I got it in jail. I was so scared. I was scared I wouldn’t get out this time. I was scared I would not see my kids grow up. They make their own tattoo guns in jail with a toothbrush, a staple and the motor of a Walkman. It cost me $15, well, not really dollars. I had to give him about 10 soups and a package of cigarettes. On the street this would be three or four hundred dollars.”
Under the tattoo of the scythe-wielding, hooded figure are the words “Death Awaits.”
He had a trial after two years in jail and was found not guilty. The sheriff’s deputies in the courtroom said as he was walking out that they “had never seen anything like this.” He reaches into his baggy jeans and pulls out his thin brown wallet. He opens it to show me a folded piece of paper. The paper says, “Verdict: Defendant found not guilty on all charges.” It is dated Jan. 31, 2008.
But innocence and guilt are funny things in America. If you are rich and guilty, if you have defrauded banks and customers and investment firms of billions of dollars, as AIG or Citibank has, if you wear fancy suits and have degrees from elite universities that cost more per year than Brown used to make, you get taxpayer money. You get lots of it. You maintain the lavish lifestyle of jets and spas and million-dollar bonuses. You live a life of unchecked greed and have too much in a world where most have too little. If you are moral scum in America we take care of you. But if you are poor, if you are, say, Tearyan Brown and African-American and 39 years old with four kids and no job and you live in the inner city, you are in trouble. No one comes to help you. You don’t get a second chance. This is what being poor means.
Brown found that life had changed when he got out. He had lost his job as a fork lift operator. And there were no new jobs to be found. He had faithfully paid child support until his arrest but, with no income, he could not pay from jail and now he was being hauled into court by the state every few weeks for being in arrears for $13,000. The mother of his three youngest boys goes to court with him. She explains that he paid regularly while he had work. She explains that when she works on the weekends Brown takes the kids. She asks that he be forgiven until he can get a job and begin paying again. But there are no jobs.
“I would not be in arrears in child support if I had not been incarcerated for something I didn’t do,” he says. “I will never get above ground owing $13,000. How can I pay $120 a week when I don’t have a job?”
Brown lives on $200 a month in food stamps and $40 in cash. Welfare will pay his apartment for another four months. He is barely making it. I ask him what he will do when he loses the rent subsidy.
“I’ll be homeless,” he says.
“My son says come down to Texas,” he adds. “Start a new life with me. But what about my three little boys? I can’t leave them. I can’t leave them in Trenton. They need a father.”
Brown works out every day. He does calisthenics. He is a vegetarian. He volunteers at a food pantry. He attends the Jerusalem Baptist Church with his little boys. “They are church kids,” he tells me proudly. “They are pretty much raised by the church.”
He is trying to keep himself together. But he lives in a world that is falling apart. The gangs on the streets of Trenton carry Glock 9-millimeter pistols and AK-47 assault rifles. When the Trenton police stop a car or raid a house filled with suspected gang members, they approach with loaded M-16s. A local newspaper, The Trentonian, reports the daily chronicle of crime, decay and neglect. The lead story in the day’s paper, which Brown has with him, is about a young man named James Deonte James, whose street name is “Lurch.” James was charged in the death of a 13-year-old girl during a gang shooting. He is reputed to be a “five star general in the Sex Money Murder set of the Bloods street gang.”
In another story, an ex-con and reputed mobster, Michael “Mickey Rome” Dimattia, was arrested in his car after a woman behind the wheel was seen driving erratically. “Mickey Rome,” dressed in a black bathrobe with a red scarf around his neck, was found to be wearing a bulletproof vest, with three guns stuck in his waistband, and had a crack pipe, crack cocaine and prescription pills in his pockets. He had been convicted in 1990 of killing a 17-year-old boy with a shotgun blast to the head. He served less than three years for the murder.
A feature story on Page 4 of the paper is about a man with AIDS who raped his girlfriend’s son 55 times and infected the boy with the virus. The boy was 9 when the rapes took place.
“There are thousands more guns out there than when I was on the street,” Brown says. “It is easier to buy a gun than get liquor from a liquor store.”
He says he rarely goes out at night, even to the corner store. It is too dangerous.
The desperation is palpable. People don’t know where to turn. Benefits are running out. More and more people are out of work.
“You see things getting worse and worse,” he says. “You see people who wonder how they are going to eat and take care of themselves and their kids. You see people starting to do anything to get food, to hustle or rob, to go back to doing things they do not want to do. Good people start doin’ bad things. People are getting eviler.”
He pauses.
“All things are better with God,” he says softly, looking down at the tabletop.
He is reading a book about the Bible. It is about Jesus and God. It is about learning to trust in God’s help. In America that is about all the poor have left. And when God fails them, they are on their own.

© 2009 Independent Media Institute. All rights reserved.

I bring this up to your attention because the preceding article ties into the post which I have been doing on the economic problems which the poor in Tampa have been going through as of late. I've been focusing mostly on the working homeless, and I'm now going to add into the equation the problems which these workers have with the Tampa Police Department constantly harassing them and writing tickets for "open container" violations. This practice is a total waste of taxpayer money. More on this next time araound.

Tampa Economy: Wasted Taxpayer Money...

....and I'm sure that the idiots who run the City of Tampa's courts and police departments will love this post.
First off, I should make it clear that I do not drink alcohol with the exception of very rare reason of celebration. I do have a problem with the city of Tampa and their "open container law' enforcement, or their over use of the law in trying to deal with homelessness and those who drink out in public.
Let me point out a few things here. Someone gets a ticket for having an open container of beer or wine, or whatever. The ticket gives the offender a court a date, at which time the offender will be given a fine of something like $135, give or take. I'm okay with things up to this point. What I'm not okay with is...
Said offender maybe has a warrant out on them because they have been arrested or ticketed for the same offense on previous occasions. Obviously, they haven't paid the past fines so now they face either 5 or 10 days in the Falkenburg Jail, depending on the mood of the presiding judge. So, that $135 fine that hasn't been paid is now going to cost the taxpayer $370.20 to keep the offender in jail for 5 days, or $740.40 for a 10 day visit. This is a waste of money which could be better spent on other things in Tampa and Hillsborough County.
I have also noticed that the majority of those getting tickets are in fact the homeless and/ or the day labor workers. I'm not for just letting these offenders off of the hook, but the city/county is never going to collect any of the fines from this group, and locking them up has not been a deterrent either.
$74.04 per day to lock one of these people up. That is cash which is basically going up in smoke. Money out the window! Gone, for nothing. That lost cash is not helping the local economy in the least. Come up with another idea Tampa. there are other ways to pad the officers arrest record.

State Of The Economy: Tampa

As you are all aware of by this time, the economic state for many lower income residents of Tampa is in a major degree of shambles. sure, the minimum wage is at a whopping $7.21 per hour, but with rises in the price of food, drugs ( legal ones ), and tobacco, that wage increase has been totally snuffed out of existance.
Want to have a really shitty time trying to live on minimum wage in this area? then might I suggest that you get sick for a week? That is what I did from the 4th up till now. I went and caught a bad case of pneumonia. Is there a good case? This illness has set me back almost to the starting point once again!
On Monday the 6th, I had just a bad headcold, which I could live with. On Monday, after going to a temp service and getting only a few hours of work per week, I finally got a decent job with 10 hour days, six days per week. Yippeee?! After spending Monday going from the high heat and humidity into a nice ice-cold truck on a regular basis, I got a little bit more sicker. Tuesday? Forget about it! I couldn't even move!the lungs were aching,the muscles were sore, and I'm not sure what the rest of me was doing. I'm a type 1 diabetic, so this shit did not help me much. So imagine. No income coming in, and plenty of income going back out. Needless to say, the job was taken over by someone else. Another one bites the dust!
There are many more people in even worse situations than I, and I do not see how they manage to pull living off on a regular basis. Perhaps this is why so many of the poor in the Tampa area drink and do drugs. I guess that the escape, even though temporary, is a means of management for the people here.
I'll have more on this after my illness is finished with me.

State Of The Economy: Tampa Florida ( Continued )

Maybe I should clarify a few things before continuing on with this topic.
When dealing with the " state of the economy " here in Tampa Florida, I am talking about the economy of the hourly worker. I'm not concerning myself with salaried workers at this time because they seem to be not suffering as much as the hourly employee is.
I am also concerning myself with those hourly workers who now happen to be living on the streets behind some building, or who are sleeping in cars, Salvation Army centers, or other homeless shelters, ect.
Many of you readers will think of the homeless as that group of people who are to lazy to work or who are either drug addicts or alcoholics. While it is true that a few of the individuals that I have hung out with are one or both, most are actually hard-working and have ended up on the streets because they could no longer afford to live the way in which they were accostumed to living, because of company downsizing or whatever.
So. Are we all on the same page now? I hope so, because the reader is about to get educated on how life is in the world of reality. Stay tuned folks because this could very well be you in our currant economy, and in that which is still to come.
Tomorrow you will meet a few of the players in this saga, and in the days to follow I will take you out with them in their daily struggles to find even temporary work in order to put food in their mouths.