Just Joseph

I am increasingly grateful to the sad young man whose face made me a Staff Pick this week. My thanks to all those who have left comments, hearts, and new subs: I may not get around to saying thank you to each person, but I'm moved by our tribe and its kindness. My search for the young man has turned into a quest, as much about the journey as the destination. This afternoon I went looking for him on my One Street (NW 21st Avenue in Portland), and I found three remarkable men. They all recognized him. It was hard for me to decide which of the three to Blip. Finally I chose Joseph, because he had the most to say:

"I'm just Joseph, and I love it here," he grinned, looking around us at the people walking by. "This is still a neighborhood. All I have to do is walk out on the street and I'll see people I know, and there's always a chess game going at the coffee place. I love to play chess.

"You're close enough to Forest Park that if you're in the mood for salad, or mushrooms, or maybe even truffles, you can find them if you know how to look. I love those white truffles. I can smell 'em. They're not as good as the black ones, but they're easier to find. Soak 'em in grape-seed oil for a couple days and then cook 'em with eggs. I trade 'em sometimes to some of the cooks in these fine restaurants, trade 'em for a meal. I can clean up real nice for that.

"If you're eatin' mushrooms you gotta watch out for deathcaps, of course. One mistake and you've bought it. But I know what I'm doing. I could take you foraging if you want to learn. Most people don't want to learn. No, you don't need to explain, I know. Most people walk around half dead or tuned into their phones. Most people don't even know what kind of day it is. Me, I like to know something about whatever's around me. When you get done taking pictures I'll give you my email address. I'd like to see what you come up with." Color version of Joseph here.

Joseph's response to my picture of the mystery man: "Yeah, I've seen him, but he doesn't stay around here."

That's the same thing Elton said. He's from a little town near Macon, Georgia. I told him I once lived near Macon, and we reminisced a bit. "I know all the drunks in town because I used to be one. Took me two years to get sober because I was so bad I'd get seizures if I didn't drink. But I've been clean two years now, and I won't go back. At Christmas I spent time with my family, and it was beautiful. It doesn't control me now. I'm in charge. But when I go looking for somebody to help me get a job, if you're not an ex-junkie or an ex-felon, they got nothing for you. There's no services for ex-drunks," he laughed. "It's hard when you've got no work record. But I'm going to find a job. I know I am."

Elton introduced me to his friend, who only wants to be known as "the Indian with the harmonica." He nodded, yes, he knows the young man in the photograph. But he changed the subject, waved his harmonica and said, "I'm still learning to play this thing, but man I love the sounds I can get out of it." He began to play complex and very beautiful blues harmonica. I stood there listening, amazed, while people walked on by and Elton and Joseph went on their way. The Indian didn't even put out a hat for change. He was just playing for the joy of the sound.