This morning I had a telephone conversation in which I was made to feel that I was crazy. After it concluded I was left with a very empty feeling inside, even though the person on the other end of the phone doesn’t really known me anymore. There is a disconnect in our society between the perception of maturity and actual maturity, one that, as I get older, I begin to recognize more and more. Rod and I were talking last night about people’s character and how, for some strange reason, many have allowed themselves to become so thin and flexible. The truth is that I am somewhat crazy, I don’t think there’s any questioning that at all. But in saying that, I would rather be crazy than pacified by whatever it is that passes for personal ethics these days. I recall a time in which talk was straight and people said what they meant. Of late, I have struggled to understand the new language employed by many that relies on diversion and the alteration of character on the fly to suit different scenarios. Maybe, in the end, the truth is that with a crazy person you always know where you stand. Simply because they haven’t the time for bullshit.
I don’t know how they run the corner shop across the street. They must be saints. Crack is peddled at their front door (and from every door for a block east of them), drunk idiots from the burbs leaving local clubs stumble in and out verbally attacking the homeless people inside using nickels and dimes to buy bags of cheap peanuts and chips, and yet the shops proprietors still have the decency to display manners to those that commonly fill the doorways of this slowly gentrifying neighbourhood on a nightly basis.
You have to live in Vancouver’s Lower East Side to truly understand how completely disconnected it is from the rest of the city, even though it’s literally no more than a five minute drive from the city’s most illustrious and pompous neighbourhood. Once more, that the only reason that trendy eateries and shops are now surfacing around here is because the price of Vancouver real estate is so extreme that transforming hovels into posh eateries has become the pastime of venture capitalists that, for the most part, could care less about what transpires down here on a daily basis or where the inhabitants of this part of town are ultimately pushed out to. It is impossible to describe the juxtaposition of the poverty and wealth that now exists simultaneously in this neighbourhood, and one wonders how long it will be before these streets are completely transformed into something totally unrecognizable.
At a recent City Council meeting, members voted to look into the issue of low income housing. They then voted themselves a pay raise. It’s about as shocking as the BC legislature’s pizza delivery bill, which is in the tens of thousands, and that’s not even taking into account things like spa treatments. Meanwhile, the doorways in this part of town are still routinely filled every nigh by the dispossessed, Canadian citizens that are ushered off of Water Street by a private security firm hired by the local business association to ensure that tourists coming off of the cruise ships at Canada Place don’t have to be confronted by the sight of them, let alone being asked for spare change. I was under the impression that the rights of every citizen of this country were the same, and that they could not be shuffled out of certain areas to protect the interests of tourist shops that sell Maple Syrup and freeze dried smoked salmon to foreigners who have ventured into Gastown to have their picture taken next to a steam clock that was erected in the 1970’s, not the 1800’s.
Drugs, and drug users, are prevalent in this part of town, there’s no denying that, just as there is no denying that many of those that find themselves on the streets down here are victims of a severely under funded mental welfare system. Looking to dispel their demons, many of them unfortunately turn to the only alternative left them – drugs. Because in comparison to the monthly cost of proper medication, which is, in truth, considerable (I can attest to that first hand), the price of street drugs is significantly less. And while not everyone that suffers from substance abuse problems in this neighbourhood is mentally ill, it doesn’t alter the fact that they are, in the end, human beings that, for whatever tragic reason, have found themselves here, lost in this perplexing maze of slum lorded hovels. It is also from here that women have disappeared on a routine basis for decades, their names and faces forgotten, their stories never told, their fates commonly never discovered. Yet were the same thing to happen in some quaint suburb or in Yaletown, it would be front page news.
Every morning at 4 or 5am, expensive SUV’s and cars piloted by members of Vancouver’s predominant organized crime regime pull up to re-supply the dealers across the street and collect their take. Meanwhile, Vancouver City Police headquarters is a block away, and it all transpires without so much as a peep.
I realize that there are going to be those of you out there that, because of your current comfort, might find it easy to condemn such people, to suggest that they simply get jobs and become productive members of society, or that they have brought it all on themselves and don’t deserve pity. I suppose I could attempt to run through the gamut of reasons why people end up down here, from sexual and physical abuse in their past to the ghettoization of Aboriginals and the impact of more than a century of disregard, but what would it ultimately matter? Many people choose to see the dispossessed in a singular light rather than those that, when extended a helping hand, or even afforded a smile in passing and the chance to pet some dogs, light up as if they have won the lottery simply because someone has bothered to afford them a little respect as a human being rather than the representation of a problem.
Standing at the corner of Main and Hastings at rush hour you’ll commonly see frightened commuters with their windows rolled up and car doors locked when they’re at the stop light as if they fear they will be set upon by groups of ravenous, drug-crazed, wolves. Such behaviour speaks directly to why the problems down here rarely get addressed, and why those that live in other parts of the city often complain when their tax dollars are used in an attempt to fund programs for such people. And yet we can spend billions of dollars hosting the Winter Games in 2010, an event that will line the pockets of the already wealthy while, just as it did during Expo 86, see the inhabitants of this neighbourhood pushed east down the Hastings corridor so as to keep them out of sight, allowing those that now own and run some of Vancouver’s most notorious slum hotels to slap on new coats of paint and buy cheap linens at Army & Navy so as to transform their establishments into something altogether unrecognizable to those that have traveled here from countries all over the world.
The hypocrisy of Vancouver society is enough to make the likes of Tommy Douglas spin in their graves. And yet, as long as it continues to grow upwards, those glass and steel monoliths dominating its skyline in ever increasing numbers, the plight of those that live down here will continue to be disregarded. In the end, this is a city that has come to represent the bottom line, and is replete with individuals that view it as little more than an urban playground. To them, what remains out of sight remains out of mind. And when they are faced with the realities of parts of the city that disagree with them, they take comfort in the fact that they can retreat to those areas that have come to exemplify what Vancouver is, to them, supposed to be about.
The building in which I live was built in 1908 and was recently transformed into lofts. When I first moved in they weren’t completed and a myriad of problems presented themselves that spoke directly to the sort of opportunism that this neighbourhood now provides those with a desire to hurriedly cash in on the urban-living boom. In truth, this building should have been condemned until the asbestos in the rafters was properly taken care of, but it wasn’t until well after tenets had moved in that the problem was addressed. And even then, it was secured primarily by using ordinary caulking to seal it in. But just like other buildings in the area that have been transformed, this is one that is secured like Fort Knox to ensure that ‘undesirables’ don’t get too close to those that have moved here looking to secure their own little piece of Vancouver’s urban utopia. My main reason for choosing this place was because it’s located directly across the street from where I recorded my last album, and because it’s zoned as a split commercial/residential building that would allow me to demo at home in a capacity that I was not able to enjoy in previous locations. But to be perfectly honest with you, it has been an experience that has caused me a great deal of humiliation. Because every time I walk out of the front gate the realities of this neighbourhood, and the disregard for its inhabitants, is so overwhelmingly prevalent that it makes me sick to my stomach with guilt.
When my lease is up I will, no doubt, move. For while there have been conversations had with other residents and local business owners about ensuring that the gentrification of the neighbourhood does not result in the further disregard of those that have, for decades, been down here, the reality is that it’s just that – talk. In the end, everyone simply wants a piece of the new Vancouver lifestyle pie.
Looking out my window, the only difference between me and some of those that are currently sitting bewildered on the pavement below is that I have the luxury of affording medication to deal with my illness. Were that not the case, I could very well be right there with them. That is something that is not lost on me on a daily basis, and certainly something that significantly alters my willingness to interact with those that many would otherwise ignore.
‘Crazy’ does that to you from time to time.
If you would like to leave Rod a message with your sentiments, you can do so here in the comments. Thanks.