Describe your local weirdos.

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

I’m at a quiet stop on a commuter line to NYC, so we have just a few quiet kookbags, mostly distinguished by their tendency to travel on foot instead of drive all over.

-Overly Friendly Looking, Possibly Gay, Possibly Evangelical Guy: 60ish, floaty silver hair, vacant smile, always dressed in stale plaid shirts and high-water pants, occasionally tries to engage strangers in pointless conversation involving the words Jesus, Christ, or church, just normal looking enough to allay suspicion.

-Walk-Or-Die Guy: 50ish, looks like Milton from Office Space minus about 60lbs, coke specs, hair probably dyed, always seen in exercise togs doing a horrible, tensed-up kind of manic half-speedwalking.

-Singing Hat Guy: early 40s, leather bomber jackets and fedora hats, walks around singing or doing brass instrument imitations to the music on his iPod, is currently writing this post.

22

A co-worker of sorts .

23

None in my small town are nearly as colorful as any of these! But, in the late 70’s or so, a residential shelter for mentally disturbed men called Alan Hall closed down. It was I believe on or just off State Street a few blocks from Downtown Madison, effectively releasing many very interesting men to roam. I am sure the more interesting ones are lost in the mists of my memory, but I remember one guy yelling and shaking a street sign. There was one old guy who would sleep on the Capitol lawn. I called him Santa because he had long white hair and beard. Then there was Art the Window Washer down on State Street, a rather benign man who would stand there with his bucket and scrubber. Don’t know if he actually washed windows.

24

Zanta

I don’t whether to laugh or cry since he’s got his own wiki article.

25

When I lived in Madison, WI, I had quite a few close encounters with Scanner Dan, usually in or near the Bruegger’s on State Street (though seeing him on the bus was not uncommon). He was a strange guy who apparently liked to listen to the police scanner, though I never saw him do so. People said he was not actually homeless, but he came to State Street to bum change or food.

26

From the early 1950’s on in my home town there was a black man who waved at cars from a chair in front of a very disreputable trailer south of the center of town. Generally known to the youth of the city as “Cool Breeze” he was also known to the local police as “Mr. Smith”, or Andy to those who had spoken with him. After a decade or so of protecting him from the depredations of high school toughs, and racist morons, the state, county, and city police departments were all very well aware of him, and very protective of his right to live and wave at traffic.

Then the Commonwealth of Virginia decided to evict him from his home. Turns out Mr. Smith’s grandfather was told by the owner of the lot where his shack stood that he could live there with his family for as long as they wanted, but they would have to “keep the place clean.” Since the owner of the lot had been the owner of the elder Mr. Smith himself, it was a long standing agreement. The Commonwealth had plans for the lot from the early 1940’s but nothing came of it until The Original Mr. Smith died, and his son moved out, leaving the current member of the family to fend for himself. (Andy Smith was about fifty years old at that time.)

So, Now the State wants Mr. Smith to leave. They offer him various housing, which he inspects, and rejects because there is no view of the highway, and no way to “See his friends.” Here is where the years of living in plain sight come in. Andy knows every cop in the region. They are his friends. And they, in turn know every lawyer in town.

The state has a fight on their hands. No mention was ever made of the agreement by which Andy’s family remained, but it was argued that the State made a de facto acknowledgment of it by leaving him there for . . . well, a hundred years or so. The shack was gone, but a succession of trailers had occupied the lot, which was regularly mowed, and kept clean for the entire time. And, Andy has about seventy lawyers. The county only had ten at the time. So, the fight was abandoned by the state.

One very nice City official keeps it in mind. In the late sixties, the City builds a parking and service facility for it’s vehicles just off a minor back road. Since violence against Mr. Smith had increased over the years, one of the city cops asked Andy if he might consider letting them move his trailer to the facility, since there were on duty guards there, and he would be safer. Andy is less than enthusiastic. But, there is a silver cloud in the move. The city has built a baseball field for the local little league, across the street from the parking faciltiy, and the league hires Andy as a crossing guard for all their games.

Andy stayed there, through a few particularly tough times. He got flood out in a hurricane, and had his trailer replaced by local business men. He got very sick. Oddly enough, when I called the city government to ask if I might help him out, they said as a retired city employee, his health insurance covered everything. (And the city police were taking care of his dogs.) Andy got better. He also got sort of famous.

He was a bit better dressed after that, with newer, and warmer clothes. He didn’t change at all. A kind man, and a very friendly one. His verbal skills were not his contribution to society, and he would volunteer only the most brief of conversations. Friendly, and cheerful, but brief. He passed away not too long after gaining his fame. He was in the paper. His funeral drew hundreds. He would have been pleased.

Tris

27

I have Cowboy Bob. He walks around town all day everyday decked out in cowboy gear, including chaps, cowboy hat, plastic spurs, and a cap gun in a holster. He also loves Linda Blair and will ask every one he sees if they know Linda Blair and that Linda Blair is the most beautiful woman alive. :stuck_out_tongue:

28

I just remembered another one from Downtown Madison. This happened in the early 80’s (pretty sure), after the Mariel boat lift from Cuba when Castro released the worst of the worst. Some were shipped up to Fort McCoy. At some point, a bunch of them meandered on down to Madison. I can remember going out on State Street with my girlfriends, walking within feet of these gangs. I don’t know if we were naive or unaware, which would be hard to believe, but there were convicted murderers amongst them.

I realize this doesn’t qualify them as “weird.” Sorry for the hijack if that’s what it is.

29

Sailor Dan draws the same picture over and over and sells it on the street. I know a number of people who love him–he’s kind of a cult figure in a section of the university population.

30

Well then, please describe yourself.

31

I can’t think of any once in specific where I live, although I did one see a homeless lady sitting on the edge of the curb in front of the hospital beaming down a Shatner into the gutter. She was even reading a newspaper.

But LA has Harry Perry; for some reason my husband calls him “The Man from Mars”. He’s usually in Venice but I’ve seen him on 3rd St. Promenade. He wears rollerskates and has an awesome psychedelic guitar and portable amp. He plays mostly his own music but a few covers. He was the highlight of my otherwise utterly crappy 21st birthday, when said to me, “You will have riches beyond imagination.” I like that guy.

32

For some reason, it’s just killing me that you have been a member for 2-1/2 years and this is your first post. Cowboy Bob should be very proud that, after all this time, he is what prompted you to hit ‘reply’.

33

In Atlanta we had Spandex Man, who I kind of miss.

Here we have a jillion, but I guess I only know about a lot of them because I’m a public librarian. Black Jesus died - he’d wear a crown and yell, I’m not sure about what. Seasonally he would also wear a black Santa outfit.

We see the Padded Samurai a lot - he’s an Asian man who looks specifically Mongolian, his hair is very long and he sometimes wears a hat designed to put your really long hair up into it, and even in the summer he wears a lot of clothes on top so he looks “padded”. You see him all up and down along the bus route. A friend of mine offered him a sandwich once, which he refused - he seems very proud. I don’t know anything more about him, though, but he’s a local fixture.

34

Just :slight_smile:

35

We’ve got the guy with the amazing rat on a cat on a dog. Video here.

We’ve got Asian Jesus, a guy in flowing white robes and bare feet who always carries a bible and is often found proselytising about Christianity. I can’t really understand him because his accent is so thick. He’s a huge pot smoker. A friend saw him at the Santa Barbara County Bowl, our local outdoor concert venue. He managed to sneak in a 3 foot bong under his robes.

There’s the Scowling Hippie. He’s about 6’ 6" and weighs about 150 pounds. He’s got dreads with flowers stuck in them and cruises around town hauling a rickshaw made from old bicycles festooned with massive amounts of fresh flowers. He wears colorful festive clothing and plays a passable banjo. He looks at you with an evil glare and you get the feeling that he’ll slit your throat if you looked at him funny. He quite often has hot young hippie chicks hanging out with him.

36

We’ve got an older fellow who wears a sort of contraption and a hat. The contraption and hat support a mixture of pretty flowers, American flags, and veteran signs. He likes to go to outdoor concerts and farmer’s markets.

When I was growing up, we had the Purple Lady, a very nice older lady who always did a lot of civic work (volunteering on Election Day and so on). She always wore purple, her hair was purple, she drove a purple car, and of course her house (and mailbox!) were purple. She even had little lavender visiting cards she gave out that said The Purple Lady. We used to host Japanese exchange students for a few weeks at a time, and we’d drive by her house as a tourist attraction. They were always floored. Once I was working in a bakery and she showed up, trailed by two French filmmakers recording her progress. I don’t know what that was about. I suppose she’s gone by now, but she was sure entertaining.

37

We’ve got a whole family. Almost certainly genuinely inbred, because they seem to be able to spawn new generations with no known outside assistance. All of them are about five feet tall, all have long dark matted hair. The man of the house occupies himself by gradually assembling a panoply of rusted motorbike frames in both the front and back gardens. They drive all over the place, squeezed into a Reliant Robin, for no apparent reason.
Now, when I was at primary school, there was Mad Mary. She didn’t really like kids. When we were being walked as a group through the town to the swimming pool, she would stop in the street and hurl abuse at us as we trooped past, continuing until we were out of sight. Her stamina was quite impressive.

38

Of course, since I work at the public library, I meet all sorts of slightly loopy people. They’re not so interesting as the Purple Lady, but I’ll tell you about this one woman I see a lot–Trudy. She’s probably 55 or so, and she’s obsessed with Bryan Adams. She goes to all his concerts, and apparently believes that she helped him write songs or something. Before she learned to use the Internet on her own, she would make me search for Bryan Adams concert schedules and song lyrics and print them out for her. Once the coins she paid me with (from her pocket) came with a couple of maggots who were along for the ride. :eek: She didn’t appear to notice when I reflexively flung coins and maggots all over my desk, which I guess is good. Now she just spends all her time on the computers, and last time I saw her she happened to be sitting next to another loopy guy–they very nearly got into a fight. Don’t mess with Trudy, she’s got a temper. I was so relieved that I didn’t have to break them up and throw them out!

Hey, check it out! I found an article on my Purple Lady!

39

Here in San Antonio, we used to have the thong man. He spent his day riding a bike around down town wearing nothing but a black thong. A few people complained about him, especially those with kids, but he was within his legal right to do it. Once, he was arrested for wearing a smaller thong that didn’t quite cover everything. A week later, he was found dead at the bottom of a cliff at Big Ben - accident, suicide, or murder, no one knows.

40

Speedo man.

:eek:

That’s all you need to know.