EP002: Being Dizzy
Transcript available here
Dizzy has a gecko tattoo above his right eye, crawling through his eyebrow.
Dizzy has his old band name tattooed across both butt cheeks and he’s happy to show it to you, if you, care to ask.
Dizzy is smart.
Dizzy is a musician. He formed and played in a number of well known Seattle bands, mostly in the 1990’s.
Dizzy is almost a comedian, really funny. He’s a natural performer.
Dizzy is friendly and quick to laugh. Even when times are tough.
Dizzy is addicted to heroin.
Dizzy busks for his money.
Dizzy is homeless.
Dizzy is my friend.
Dizzy and I met 8 years ago. He was living in a tent at Gas Works Park. Today he lives in a gritty shipping container located in a working industrial yard along the ship canal in Seattle. His container, or I should say, his home, is stacked on top of several other containers. To get to Dizzy's place you come through a locked chain link fence, climb a flight of open wooden stairs to the top of a container, WHICH is littered with construction supplies and bags of garbage. There are no railings. You then step across a 15” gap to the top of the next container, before walking 12’ or so to Dizzy’s sliding metal front door. If you turn around, you get a most beautiful view of the Ballard Bridge and ship canal.
Dizzy’s space is a mess. It’s sensory overload with graffiti on the walls, a half size refrigerator, propane tanks, end tables, lamps, a chair, and garbage. Half eaten food can be found on most horizontal surfaces. Oh, and musical equipment. About 7 guitars, a number of amps, and other digital musical equipment. When I walked in today I stepped over a clarinet on the floor, just inside the door.
All of that said, I actually really like his place. It’s him. It’s Dizzy. And, it’s much better than the broken down minivan that he was living in just a few months before and the years of tents before that.
Getting to know and becoming friends with anyone, you begin to care about that person, about their well being. When your friend is struggling it pulls at you, you want to help. That’s what friends do.
Often in these moments, the problem isn’t the ‘wanting to help’, it is in the ‘how to help’. That’s the very moment it gets complicated. Always. Giving help to anyone is a tricky thing. Giving help to someone that is homeless, at times feels a bit like swimming out to someone you love that is drowning. It can be very emotional.
There are plenty of reasons folks choose to not give help, or to be in service to another. We live in a culture that is defined by the self-made-man, or rather, the self-made-person. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps is ingrained in each of us from early on. If too much ‘help’ is given there will be those saying you are enabling, preventing that person, that friend, from moving forward. A handUP is seen as being much better than a handOUT. Teach a person to fish rather than give them a fish.
Then there are the unintended consequences of trying to do something good for someone in need. Promises get made that can’t be kept. Getting someone a job that they are set up to fail at and then fired. Another layer of trauma introduced. Those ones especially hurt. You wanted to make a difference and instead you made a mess. You didn’t understand the depth of the issue, or issues, at hand.
The truth is, helping IS a tricky thing. And………..it’s an infinitely worthwhile thing. It’s a human thing. It’s what connects us, binds us together, and has us feeling and acting on our highest and best selves. It is what we are meant to be doing.
The ten things I listed about Dizzy earlier are all true. But they don’t even begin to tell you who Dzzy is, only how he’s seen, how he presents to the world. There is no way by just seeing him to know his barriers or struggles beyond those of food and shelter.
To know who he is, we have to listen. By listening, we can know where to take the next step.
Zeke and Shark Chum
“Welcome the new monsters of rock. It’s no doubt true that West Coast punk / thrashers ZEKE are monsters. Ever since their very first gig at the Rock City in Seattle in 1993, people have had no choice but to pay attention. Their records will assault you, and their live show will batter you. ZEKE established a nasty disposition while cutting teeth on their own brash hardcore punk.
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“A punishing American hardcore unit based out of Seattle, Washington, Zeke’s Gatling-gun riffing and bluesy hard rock demeanor draw as much from heavy metal — particularly speed and thrash — as punk, splitting the difference between Motörhead and Black Flag.”
