ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS

27. HAPPIEST BUM ON VENICE BEACH

★ Leonard ★

"Where should I go now?"

The question arises in my head. This time, it is clear to me. I want to see the vast ocean and feel the cool breeze all over my body. So I take I-15 toward Los Angeles. The desert is pitch dark. The headlights light up the white line in the middle of the dark asphalt. My eyes follow the line, and bright lights coming into my direction blind me once in a while.

I think about the time I spent with Risa. She made me see certain things that are happening in my life. I still can't tell for sure if Beth's death was something meaningful. But I realize that I can leave something behind and see something beautiful about life again.

I thank Risa for letting me see the light again. It was sad to see her go, but I knew she kicked me out of her life for my own sake. That was how she expressed her love for me. I never told her that I loved her. In the end, I hope she knew how much I cared for her.

I drive all night along I-15. After driving for four hours in the desert, the truck detours to CA-210 toward Pasadena. I get off at exit 52 and drive through the entire city of LA. The City of Angels is dozing, and the truck cruises the half-empty streets. When the street where I can no longer drive west, I find myself on Venice Beach.

I park the truck in an empty parking lot across from the Speedway. When I walk out of my pickup, Bianco jumps out of the bed of the truck. When we run toward the oceanfront, the veil of the night lifts, and a hint of morning light descend upon the beach. Venice Beach is completely deserted, and I stand on the sand only a few feet away from the saltwater.

I look at the vast Pacific Ocean and think that this is the biggest ocean on the entire planet. While enjoying a cool breeze, the next wave washes over my feet entirely, and my sneakers are soaking wet. But such a little thing doesn't matter, and I am thrilled to be here. I still don't know what I want to do with my life, but my heavy sorrow seems to be lifted out of my heart, and I can feel the joy in my heart again.

I decide to become a beach bum for a while. I don't know for how long, but I will know when the time is right to move on. So I walk along the boardwalk with Bianco every day and talk to people. I have to say that it is nice to have a good-looking dog. Everyone stops us and tells me how beautiful Bianco is. If I were into picking up girls, this could have been the perfect way to start a conversation.

In the afternoons, we jump into the ocean and chill. Bianco loves to jump into the water and chase after me. In the evenings, we grab something cheap to eat and sleep on the mattress in my pickup while staring at the Milky Way. It is the middle of June, and the weather is almost perfect. One week passes after our arrival, and being a beach bum is starting to suit me better than being a bartender.

One evening, I notice a dark face staring closely at me as I lie looking at the stars. I jump a few feet off the bed. He excuses himself.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to say hello as your neighbor."

I look at him and ask him.

"What do you mean by neighbor? My car is parked here in the parking lot."

He points at a large cardboard box several feet away from the car.

"That's right! Your truck has been parked here right next to my hut."

I ask him.

"Is that your hut?"

He smiles at me.

"That's right! That's my hut. So we are technically neighbors!"

He extends his hand for a handshake. I take his hand, and we greet each other. That's how I met Jamal. His smile is contagious, and it makes me smile as well.

I find out later that he is the happiest bum on Venice Beach.

The next evening, Jamal comes to my truck and offers me dinner.

"Leo! Would you like to have dinner with me? You can name any food you wish to eat, and I will take you there."

I don't want to offend him, but he doesn't seem like he has enough money to take me out for dinner. So I try to decline his offer nicely. But he insists on taking me out, so I choose the food that might cost the least for him.

"Well, how about Mexican food?"

He jumps into the passenger seat to guide me to the restaurant.

"I know the best Mexican restaurant on the beach."

He guides me to the restaurant's back alley and tells me to park the car by the dumpster. He jumps out of the car and opens the dumpster while he explains.

"You know Americans throw away almost as much food as they eat because of a 'cult of perfection.' Vast quantities of fresh produce grown in the US are left in the field to rot. They are fed to livestock or hauled directly from the field to landfills."

"Thirty percent of food is thrown away at the retail and consumer level, just like what we see here in this restaurant. Look at these chicken fajitas. They are still perfect. Look at these burritos. Nothing wrong with them."

He picks what seems to be perfect for our dinner and keeps talking about how we need to change the way we live in our world.

"Wholesome food that could have helped feed families in need is completely wasted. The land, water, labor, energy, and other stuff used in producing, processing, transporting, preparing, storing, and disposing of discarded food are pulled away from uses that may have been more beneficial to society."

"What a waste! Our action impacts the environment in a way that may endanger the long-term health of the planet. In fact, food waste is the single largest component going into municipal landfills. It quickly generates methane and is the third-largest source of methane production in the United States."

I am amazed at Jamal's extensive knowledge about wasteful consumption in our country. After picking up sufficient food for the night, we go back to the beach. We sit at the edge of the boardwalk and start our dinner.

Jamal says with amazement.

"Isn't it incredible that we are eating the best Mexican in town and watching the beautiful sun setting into the Pacific Ocean?"

"This is priceless!"