In freezing fog

It's my first time to see freezing fog. It's not snow, not sleet, not an ice storm--but tiny granules freezing in the fog that blankets us, coating each branch, each blade of frozen grass, and (worse) the street and sidewalks with slickness. Cars and walkers are slip-sliding away, though a few intrepid bikers seem to be coping with it. I managed, using my best Tai Chi balance strategies, not to fall while out taking pictures.

Here again, on my One Street this time, is evidence of another person sleeping in the street. Homeless or houseless? The distinction was requested by Ibrahim Mubarak, a man who describes himself as houseless and is an organizer of people in Portland who are without houses to live in. I met Mubarak when I was writing for the Portland Occupier, and he told me, "I'm not homeless. I have a home, and I carry it with me. The bankers took my house, but they can't take my home, even if I make it on my feet, in a shopping cart, or in a doorway. I take care of myself and my few possessions while living on the street, and I don't like it when people call me homeless, as if they think I'm without roots or dignity." Mubarak is a man of great dignity. He has organized several parts of town where houseless people can live together and support each other, and he calls one of them "Dignity Village." The other area is R2D2, or Right to Dream Too, blipped here last July. R2D2 is still fighting the City, which has given the camp a bill for $13,000 for some bureaucratic idiotic unreason. Tomorrow the MLK, Jr. Day Parade will make a stop at R2D2, and that's where I hope my old friend Frank and I will join the parade.

This person's shopping cart filled with sleeping bags coated with freezing fog is much less well-organized than the arrangement I blipped a few days ago with a child's bike on it. But this appears to be somebody's stuff, and maybe it's their home. If I had seen the owner, I could have asked him whether he prefers to be called homeless or houseless. Perhaps he would tell me he doesn't give a shit what anybody calls him. Or perhaps he has a preference. Perhaps it would be nosey or intrusive for me to ask him. Or perhaps it would be respectful. I'd have to play it by ear.

Edit: The MLK Jr Day parade, which I thought was taking place on MLK Jr Day, in fact happened Saturday and I totally missed it. Hilarious. I don't know what Frank and I will do, but we will figure that out when he gets here.