L.A.'s Fashion District

It was a decent excuse to check out L.A.: I needed to get a passport. If you ever need someone to find the most expensive parking in a city, come and talk to me. The parking lot below the Canadian Consulate seemed like a slam-dunk - two turns off the freeway, and I'm there. The attendant informed me motorcycles had to pay for parking as well, of which I told him I wasn't surprised. The surprise came when he told me it was $20 per hour. I ended up paying $8 for about 13 minutes of parking, as I had hit the office over their lunch hour. One block away, and I got parking all day for $5. Once all the passport photos and notarizing were completed, I could do a bit of sightseeing.
I hadn't a clue that I was in the middle of L.A.'s fashion district. Stores upon stores stacked with rolls of fabric, others filled with mannequins wearing tight jeans, and street after street of sunglasses, t-shirts, and especially women's clothes. A hidden alcove was full of people, music, and store staff yelling out their special deals. It was a large marketplace reminiscent of Mexico, with hidden walkways, and store behind store. It was intriguing to me that everyday, these people sell stuff. All day, every day, they don't have food on the table unless people buy their stuff. I felt a bit of an empty pit in my stomach, I didn't know why. I take a break at Chessco's for some authentic Mexican food, get chatting with the couple beside me, and they end up paying for my meal. I create a new word, combining Karma, with Charm: Charma. Do not confuse with Charmin people. That's a whole 'nother joke. A homeless Vietnam Vet sits down and shows me his poetry at the Starbuck's. His name is James Harper, and here is the opening verse as an excerpt:

Vietnam is my TEST-A-MENT
I was taken from home and trained to kill,
Another human being against my will.
He fought real hard to protect himself, and his land.
I had no choice but survive and now I live with blood on my hand.

He was adamant that his poetry was on the internet, but it wasn't. A couple other bloggers had referred to him and their experiences in meeting him, but no actual website devoted to his writing. Meeting him left me with an empty feeling - good people just not able to get anything going in life. Hopeless, meaningless, the future exactly the same as the present. I questioned whether this man would be able to find peace and happiness in his life. Somehow I consoled myself by reasoning that humans are amazingly adaptable, and that regardless of one's circumstances, no matter how difficult, can see light in the most impossibly dark places. I have a feeling Mr. Harper has a few smiles in his day nonetheless.