Arguments

I slept in—until 5:45 that is!

Thus, Elmer and I arrived later than usual to the Empire Boat Ramp to begin another day in Coos Bay.

The bay was placid. Nothing moved on the water except ducks and geese. Gulls darted overhead.

Four battered vehicles occupied the parking lot. They were clearly domiciles. At least when their residents awakened, they could enjoy a magnificent view of nature. I like to believe that counts for something to the psyche of a homeless person. Perhaps that is a stupid, naive, vainglorious or preposterous belief. But experiencing Coos Bay in the morning rather than experiencing camping underneath an urban Interstate Highway bridge has to matter in some way. To me, it portends a sliver of hope. They see a bay, not concrete. They hear the sounds of a bay, not freeway traffic. They smell a bay, not exhaust fumes.

Elmer and I approached the beach. I heard a male voice from a sedan screaming at someone. On closer inspection, he was screaming at the driver, a woman. It was something about how she had cheated on him and posted it to social media.

The woman said nothing. Her window was down and the smell of cannabis drifted my way.

We passed them and hit the beach.

The man continued his profane harangue. She continued to say nothing. Coos Bay was 20 yards away from them. They had a magnificent view of nature, exponentially better than what they might see while camping underneath an urban Interstate Highway bridge.

So what?

The view didn't make a damn bit of difference to his psyche at that particular moment. Why believe it would? Did I think somehow he'd be especially sensitive, kinder and more articulate cuckold became he could see Coos Bay in the morning instead of the underneath of an urban Interstate Highway Bridge?

Elmer and I did our bay beach thing.

Twenty minutes later we left the beach and passed the sedan. The man and woman were smoking weed and laughing. Ahh, yes, soothing good old Coos Bay.