Cranial Bondo

last spring, while living in the SOMA district of san francisco, i took advantage of the twice weekly civic center farmers market. stealthily dodging the fresh fruits to make my way to some recently picked opposite-of-vegetables. too soon? anyhoo. on one particular morning i'm making my way across market street at the corner of 7th, when the man seen in the picture walked past me. he was black dude, i would venture to guess, in his late 50's/early 60's. with gray tufts of afro-curled hair jutting out of a hair piece that looks like he scalped a migrant worker. so, naturally, i about face in the middle of the street and get my follow on. i stand next to him at the crosswalk and act like i'm about to make a call, wait for him to turn, and GOTCHA!

now, while that may be kinda hilarious, it really kind of got me thinking about the things we do to compensate for things that we're insecure about. how, a lot of the time, the methods by which we distract others from our imperfections actually draw way more attention to those things than we ever thought. i look at this picture from time to time and wonder what brought this man to where he is today. where it seems his only possessions are the clothes on his back, the dirt on permanent vacation in the wrinkles on his weathered face, and some asshole with a camera chasing him across the street to take a picture to show the world.

honestly, who the fuck am i?! ya wanna know? well, here's my shitty wig. i'm a shy, scatter-brained, insecure, self-medicating, hopeful but pragmatic, self-effacing turd. and i make up for this by being loud and trying to make people laugh because it's honestly the only thing i think i'm good at sometimes.

but, seriously. did you see the shit outta that dude's hairpiece? HA!