Reflections on Houses & Home

Mike contrasts between his times of being broke/unhoused versus those of financial abundance with a roof over his head.

Good morning, this is Mike George coming at you live from beautiful Natchez, Mississippi. It is that magical time of the morning when we can still call this “Facebook After Dark”… before sunrise! I’m here at the beautiful Natchez Bluff, and I have to say that I feel truly blessed.

I know that sometimes through the looking glass of Facebook, things might look a little rough for me. I recently waxed frustratingly about the word “homeless” and all the stigma and despair it entails. That really does a disservice to people who are truly suffering. If you want to consider the term “homeless” in the proper sense of the word, I’ve been “homeless” for years, including during times in which I’ve been housed. A more proper word for my situation would be “house-less.”

A house is just a house; a “home” is something a little bit more sacred.

I used to think I could call anywhere “home,” i.e. Natchez has become my home now. I’ve felt more at home here than I have in many other places, including Portland and Alexandria. And I’m determined to make Natchez Mississippi my home for a small while.

I won't try to sugarcoat things; it’s been rough. I’ve been waiting on pins and needles for five backlogged unemployment checks and my tax return. Yet, it's kind of unfair to consider this a despairing time in my life.

I often compare my life now back to that when I turned 30. Some of you who knew me in Columbus during that time might recall that I had a beautiful loft apartment in downtown Columbus, making $86,000/year. That life was, to many people, a dream. But I was miserable. I knew even back then that it was kind of obscene to be making that kind of money and be so unhappy. When making that type of money, you can't tell yourself, "I’ll just make more money and then I’ll be happy". The problem wasn't the money; the problem was having things to spend my money on that weren't utterly cliché, and people worthwhile to spend that money on, instead of just feeling that I was accumulating another bullshit item to acquire in my house.

My life in Columbus felt utterly cliché. Despite everything looking good on paper, I was unhappy. I compare that to now, where I have no money, but yet I’m in this beautiful town, meeting some of the friendliest people I’ve ever met in my life.

This place is inspiring. Natchez is almost exactly the size of Steubenville, Ohio, and when I look around, I see beautiful relics like the Grand Hotel here and the fountain they’ve been tireless in maintaining.

When I was 30, I was bored of everything. I remember how empty and dull my life had seemed - that I would go on the same types of dates, with the same types of people, at the same types of bougie-ass restaurants. It felt like every day was the same dream — a good dream, mind you. But eventually, when you live that same dream every day, it becomes a big, pointless loop.

I had everything. Yet, I felt that I was languishing, and I couldn't put my finger on what it was that I was missing. I know many of my dear friends are perplexed by my decision in 2016 to leave the comforts and affluence of my my AEP job and be homeless in the streets instead. But I don’t regret it.

In fact, I often hark on this struggle in job interviews when addressing questions about my confronting adversity and overcoming obstacles. It goes along with one of my favorite quotes, “The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all,” from Disney’s Mulan.

All things considered, I don't consider my life adverse. I’ve been blessed with friends and plenty of material things that advantaged me. I have nothing to complain about. I'm a healthy 36-year-old man, and I’m in great shape — perhaps the best shape I’ve ever been in my life. It could be worse.

I hear the small-town rumor mill and gossip here in Natchez. But I hate criticism without solutions. So, let me give an update on my work happenings:

I love the assortment of jobs I’ve been applying to, namely at AEP in Columbus and Duquesne Light company. More specifically, I’ve been looking at **interconnection engineer** roles. This type of work—dealing with distributed generation (DER), like Walmarts that have solar panels and want to sell power back to the utility—harks right up the alley of my Master’s thesis from 2009–2010. I don't think there’s been a better time in recent memory for me as a job seeker in the utility domain. I know these things take forever, so even if I'm a shoe-in for some of these positions, it’s going to take months.

I told myself I might get out of the utility business, but I'm also focused on my non-profit, **Crimson Rouge Studios**. I'm working hard to hone the mission and make it relevant. I’m going to make some job postings for the non-profit soon, especially before Springtime hits. I’ll be paying **$25 an hour** for folks who believe in the mission, or who have opinions on how to refine it.

Leaving my last job at Cleco was a much easier decision than leaving AEP. At Cleco, I was making a much lower salary, about $77,000, while pulling 50 hours a week. That was my lowest paying job besides my Montreal job which paid $70,000 Canadian dollars. But I don't really care about the money.

Speaking of Natchez, I know I'm on the Natchez Police Department's radar. I have to give a shout-out to **Officer Carter**. I love the black female cops around here. I believe the era of the good old boys and **white men being in charge of everything is done, thank the fuck God**. They've destroyed enough. The law enforcement here is run by competent black women, and that gives me a lot of peace of mind. They put me in my place—I'm a little shit, and sometimes I like to be put in my place.

I’ve had some run-ins with the law here; that's actually where these wounds come from. I spent three days at the Adams County Sheriff’s Office jail. The nice thing about jail as a homeless person is you don’t have to worry about where you’re going to sleep, and I actually had some of the best jail food of my life there.

It's just nice to know that the town of Natchez is in good hands, run by competent and caring people.

The sun is starting to come out, which means we have to come to a close here at "Facebook After Dark Before Sunrise". It's a gorgeous morning. Take everything on Facebook with a grain of salt, including this shit. Take care of yourselves and take care of somebody else. Happy Thursday, y’all.