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DRUNK IN PUBLIC
The Mark David Allen Story
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| In 2004, Mark did the incredible... |
Sunday, February 29th, 2004 - 1:30pm
Mark actually got released on February 14th, 2004 - Valentine's Day. It was a week earlier than expected.
I have no idea where Mark stayed for 2 weeks--I’m stunned he didn’t show up any sooner. As I've mentioned, it's typical for him to show up in our jail within 24 hours of his release from
County Jail. My December 2003 hope that Mark could lie low or God forbid, get clean, carried on into 2004.
For if he could stay out of trouble for a few weeks, was this something that could be built on?
Mark never dies...And therefore neither does hope...
Back to the day at hand. Mark was indeed arrested again--for being drunk in public. He looked average. I did expect him to
look better after drying out for almost 5 ½ months. What surprised me was his
mental status. He wasn’t any “better”. Then again, he wasn’t any worse.
I asked Mark where he went on last September 16th, 2003 (referring to the time he simply
vanished and then was spotted by an officer at County Jail). I had to remind Mark
that he wasn’t seen anywhere for 39 days. Mark just stared at me. Suddenly, a light went on in his pulverized skull and he blurted, “I took a
bus to Oregon to see my mother.” Not true. He hasn’t seen his mother in over 15 years.
According to Mark's Grandmother, Mark’s mother wants nothing to do with him, not in a negative way, but
more in a "What can I do with him?" sort of way...
Mark seemed to have slowed down on the robotic consistency in which he
would recite classic rock hits, but he did pick up a new phrase, “I’m doin’
pretty good, how are you?” This seemed to kick in every time you would corner
him, where he was required to deliver an original or purely honest thought or reply. Everything turned into a "I'm doin'
pretty good, how are you?"
I guess it’s better than his old “Illogical jurisdiction…” mantra. Something new is always nice, but it’s still pretty meaningless.
Tuesday,
March 2nd, 2004 - 2:10 pm
Mark was arrested for being drunk in public again. I've noticed that Mark
has a pretty good attitude and that only a few things seem to really upset him. One is being arrested, the handcuffs
in particular are not his favorite. Two, is his property, especially his clothing, he wants to keep it all on and believes
it to obtain a value that only he can appreciate. Three, assuming he'll return to jail.
Only
once before, had I made the comment to Mark as he was released from jail, that I would see him when he comes back and is arrested
again. I said it very casually and was truly sincere. I just meant I'd see him when he came back. Well,
this "assumption" draws an incredulous glare from Mark as if I assumed the worst in him. A look of utter disdain shrouds
his face, nearly making me feel ashamed for drawing such an absurd conclusion.
As I released Mark today, I casually mentioned
I'd see him when he came back. Once again, I was blasted with "The Look". Accompanying
this look, was incredulous anger...
I find it fascinating how serious Mark takes his
vows to remain sober. Which I think
shines some light on the condition of his mind.
Is it possible Mark
is straight up serious when he swears he'll never return? Could he truly believe himself for those few minutes
when he is adamant we will never see him again? What if he is telling the truth--Sincere? What if it was you?
And your memory was shot? Would you essentially be re-living your unkept promise? Over and over and over...And
you would never even realize how foolish you sounded?
This may explain
Mark's believable sincerity. I don't
believe anything else can...
Saturday, March 13th, 2004
- 11:30am
Mark was arrested for being drunk in public again. When
I asked Mark where he went back on September 16th, 2003, he said, “Surfing in Hawaii, brah!” I believe he meant it.
Sunday, March 14th, 2004 - 5:00pm
Mark was arrested for being drunk in public
again. This time he actually accepted fresh clothing. Usually he won’t touch anything that’s “clean”. Another day...Another mysterious
response from MDA...
Monday,
March 15th, 2004 - 11:30pm
Mark was arrested for being drunk in public again. He nailed a trifecta today with his 3rd arrest in 3 days.
Wednesday, March 17th,
2004 - 7:30pm
Mark
was arrested for being drunk in public again. He finally seems to be hitting
his stride, nearly coming in on a daily basis. He surprised me with an impressive
(and rare) display of awareness when he said, “How was your St. Patrick’s Day, David?” Then he pissed himself.
Saturday, March 20th, 2004 - 9:00am
Mark
was arrested for being drunk in public again. I just can't seem to shake my desire to
find out where Mark went at the end of last year. I've been asking him every time I see him if he knows where he went.
Each time I ask, my endeavor to know, appears absurd and ridiculous...
I
once again, reminded Mark that he “disappeared” for 39 days back in September of 2003. He said, “I did?”
Sunday, March 21st, 2004 - 1:00pm
Mark was arrested for being drunk in public again. He
smelled awful. It’s unimaginable unless you experience it. What follows
is something Mark and I have laughed about in regards to his obvious foul smell. We'd rather be honest and
have a chuckle, than ignore it and deny it exists... After all, which is more human? Furthermore, Mark knows
how much effort I put into to helping him maintain the least offensive presence possible.
"THE ALLENOMETER" (TM)
Today, Mark was especially ripe. When I opened the drunk tank door, it
felt like I opened a blast furnace. I literally felt hot tactile pressure on
my face. Flames shot up my nostrils and coursed through my sinuses.
I’ve
decided to devise a system capable of measuring foul smell. I don’t believe
there is anything like it, at least for "non-scientists"...
For temperature, we have Farenheit, Celsius
and Kelvin. For weight, distance, and volume we have the metric or English system. For brightness, there is lumens...For electric energy there is watts. Audio volume has decibels. Horsepower, knots, psi, etc...It goes on and one.
Why is there no accepted system available to mearsure the degree
of foul odor?...
With all of the science in this world, experts
agree that the human nose is the most accurate tool for scent recognition and classification.
It’s difficult for scientists to devise a system because of cultural and subjective perception in regards to
various odors. Even men and women assess smell differently. There is no definitive agreement. For the most part, this may be
true...But I think there is room for improvement. There is a unit and a scale we can agree on. I do not think
it's impossible. For the most part, people agree that ice cream tastes "GOOD" and spoiled milk tastes "BAD". And
anyone who has ever stepped in shit or smelled something dead, knows what a "BAD" smell is...And anyone who has ever
smelled fruit or a flower knows what a good smell is...
Furthermore,
anyone who has ever had the opportunity to take a whiff of Mark, would come to the conclusion that something smells bad.
In honor of Mark, I’m going
to call my scale the “ALLENOMETER” (TM). It will measure the brilliance
of stench it what I've termed: “HOBO-UNITS”...
For
all intents and purposes--here are a few baseline measurements:
B.O. (Teenager)
100 Hobo-units
Kittybox or Petco 200
Hobo-units
Burp (Salami) 300
Hobo-units
Rotten Dairy
400 Hobo-units
Port-a-Potty (Pre-5K run)
500 Hobo-units
Intensified Fart
600 Hobo-units
Rotten Shoes (Transient)
700 Hobo-units
Skunk Spray
800 Hobo-units
Dead Body
900 Hobo-units
Mark David Allen
1000
Hobo-units
The top end of the scale is the measurement equivalent
to 500 horsepower, 212 Farenheit, one metric ton, or 500 watts.
The honor of topping out the scale with Mark is
only fair...And accurate. Now, he can certainly come in at other levels, but 1000 is the known accepted
outermost limits of a human being's ability to comprehend a bad smell.
For instance, Mark may be released from County Jail and get arrested 2 days
later. He'll probably only clock in at 400 Hobo-units. But give him 2 weeks on the street, urinating
through his own clothing, and he will have reached boiling point on the "The Allenometer" (TM) at 1000 Hobo-units.
Wednesday, March 25th, 2004 - 8:15pm
Mark
was arrested for being drunk in public again. He was released from County Jail less
than one month ago, yet he looks like he's been on the streets a year...
Mark's 9 arrestes in one month are shocking, but not as much as the remarkable
transformation that only he manages to survive...
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| Mark was booked 9 times in one month... |
Wednesday, March 31st,
2004 - 7:00pm
Mark was arrested for being drunk
in public again. When the hospital medically cleared him prior to booking, his
blood pressure was 119 over 67. Mark is a medical miracle, transcending
all logic - The Terminator Vagabond... Indestructible.
Saturday,
April 3rd, 2004 - 6:20pm
Mark was arrested
for being drunk in public again. I asked him once again where he went back on
September 16th, 2003. He told me,
“I don’t know.” After some prodding, he eventually came up
with “Roger—In L.A.”. Whatever.
Sunday, April 4th, 2004 - 5:26pm
Mark was arrested for being drunk in public again.
He looks horrible. Swollen. Cranky.
To this day, every available entity refuses to do something about this problem.
Why? Money. No one wants
to pay to have Mark evaluated to see whether he is able to care for himself. Does
someone who has made 300+ trips to the E.R. sound like someone who can care for themselves?
When you factor in the amount of time and money it costs the city to have
Paramedics pick him up, Police Officers stay with him at the hospital, the hospital tests and treatments
and medications, the mileage and wear and tear on vehicles that must
taxi him around and up to County Jail. And then add in the costs of his 10 months spent residing in County Jail. Certainly these costs outweigh any 30 day hospital stint.
The numbers I have listed above are simply monetary values.
What about service costs and interruptions? It takes at least 4 hours
to deal with Mark when he’s arrested. So that comes to 124 man hours, and
that is for officers only. This doesn’t take into consideration that paramedic
services and police services and doctor and nurse services are interrupted and or wasted as well.
In this day and age, when it’s popular to pick on and criticize police departments, it’s fantastically
ironic that they’re the only ones trying to solve this problem. Their hands
are tied. There is nothing less that an officer would like to do, than arrest
Mark. And then sit with him at the hospital.
They avoid him if possible.
Everyone
likes to complain, but very few are willing to do something about it. Whether
anyone does anything about it—YOU’RE PAYING FOR IT. It’s just
a matter of how much you wish to pay? Certainly, some may ask, “Why the
hell do I care about some drunk bum?” Those who ask that need to look at
a larger picture. What if Mark stumbles in front of your car? What if he stumbles in front of your daughter’s car? It’s
not a pretty thought, but it’s probably going to happen to someone. It’s
just a matter of when. Unless, of course, someone lends the police a hand.
Last night, Mark was cleared for booking at the hospital
and sent to County Jail. He’s due to be released on May 18th. Unless someone does something, this will continue to be a drain on everyone’s resources.
Wednesday, April 7th, 2004 - 7:50pm
Just yesterday I mentioned to someone how surprised I was that Mark had not ventured back into the Laundromat
and been arrested for violating the restraining order against him. I spoke
too soon. Today, that is exactly why he was arrested.
Mark has been arrested 31 times in the last 12 months. This
feat is even more remarkable when it is revealed that Mark spent 10 of those last 12 months in County Jail.
Saturday, May 21st, 2004 - 11:00pm
Mark was
released from County Jail on May 18th. The fact that 3 days had gone by since his release and he had not been re-arrested puzzled
me.
Then, all of a sudden, Mark resurfaced--Literally.
A woman walking her dog late at night heard a large splash off the side of one of the bay bridges.
She
called the police who came out and shined their flashlights into the cold murky water below. Mark was clinging
to a large chunk of wood--Shivering away...
Mark was transported to the hospital for treatment.
He was not booked. The hospital said they would "find a place" for him. I don't know what this phrase means
to them, but from my experience--It is totally ineffective. It's an effort with no teeth. Maybe there's a bit
of hunger or an appetite to do such a thing, but I have not experienced any real bite.
The split second Mark realizes he is not "locked in"--He's
out. Mark leaves if he can or perceives he can. If someone is going to spend their resources to help him, it should
at least yield some results. I'm not being critical of their effort. This type of effort is rare and I applaud
them for trying to do something, but there's enough evidence out there by now that illustrates that much of these intentions
de-volve into perceived efforts.
I'm sure I'll see him within a day or two.
Tuesday, May 25th, 2004 - 5:00pm
Mark was arrested for being drunk in
public. His 2 day stay at the hospital did nothing but prolong the inevitable. But he did stay out of jail for
2 days on his own...
When Mark
entered the jail, he was so intoxicated that he didn't even recognize me. In 10 years this is the only the 2nd time
this has happened. His eyes seemed to be going two different directions. He saw the letter "D." on my
name tag and started guessing, "Dan?... Dennis?"... Then, all of a sudden, he wasn't trying to guess anymore,
he just said my name as if he never forgot it. Very strange.
Mark
was arrested at a pizza parlor. Apparently, he was knocking over tables and carrying on. His mood was ripe. Mark
carried Carrying on with a burst of unusual zest, that had actually been missing of late.
Mark's normal dialogue had added a few gems. His broken record conversation had somehow been "refreshed" (re-booted?).
A few hours earlier, we got word
from the local courthouse that one of our other chronic drunks, "MOONDOGGIE" had died from liver failure at the hospital.
Moondoggie had been around longer that Mark. They were
contemporaries, even though Moondoggie was about a decade older than Mark. Of course, neither of them were as "bad"
as the other and they always had choice names for each other. Mark loved to refer to Moondoggie as "that wino".
Moondoggie was more extroverted and volatile than Mark. Although I never
saw them together, it was obvious they had crossed paths and did not like each other.
A tantrum was sure to be thrown if it was alluded to Moondoggie
that he may be similar to Mark in any way...Moondoggie would always go the sexual insult route, whenever he became angry
and made it clear to everyone that Mark was a "drunk faggot". Not literally, just figuratively. Moondoggie
also told me he toured with The Stones and rode will the Hells Angels as well as serving 3 tours in 'Nam with the "Delta Force
Da Nang Harbor Chapter 7!".
When Moondoggie arrived in the jail, he was so amazingly different
every time. Hot and cold. Some days, you could see he was happy to have a place to sleep. Others, he was
at war with the world and everyone in it. Everyone was after him or "fucking him over" or something of that nature.
And everybody, including me on more than one occasion was a "fucking faggot!"
I would surmise that Moondoggie struggled more with petty criminal
behavior and a mental illness-based personality disorder than he did outright hardcore alcoholism like Mark. Moondoggie
didn't get arrested for drunk in public as much as he did other things like; tresspassing, disturbing the peace,
fighting in public, vandalism, theft of a shopping cart, etc... Moondoggie's
situation appeared to me to be much more an obvious display of self-medication.
Lashing out appeared to be Moondoggie's only known way of inter-relating. He
simmered in anger sauce and always seemed to have a hair trigger temper. Moondoggie always made threats, "I'm gonna
eye-hook your faggot ass, Sperling!" He also had bad habit of screaming and spitting at you when he "talked" to you.
Moondoggie would spray spit all over you while he
screamed (except when he was screaming in his sleep which he did quite often. Moondoggie would release violent
earth-shaking roars and actually be sound asleep at the time of his screaming. I never witnessed his screaming every
waking him from his sleep.
Nearly anything would set off Moondoggie. Especially cops.
I recall a time that I was trying to calm him down in the uncuff and he irately removed one of his urine soaked socks and
fired it toward the property bucket. Well, somehow it curved and found my face, meeting my mouth--SPLOOSH!
It was so utterly foul and absurd, I think Moondoggie practically
expected to be executed then and there. It actually did appear to be an accident. Either way, I smiled slowly,
turned and walked away as the chorus of my co-workers' jeers followed me down the hallway and into the kitchen where
I gave my face a Karen Silkwood Power Shower.
After
that very special episode of Moondoggie Mayhem, he was much less volatile around me...
One of the last times I saw Moondoggie, he was refusing to leave
the jail because he had nowhere to go. He wasn't thinking very clearly, but he had some medical issues (he'd been arrested
out of the hospital for refusing treatment and assaulting a hospital employee). His abdoman was pretty bloated
and he just didn't look right. He told me he was going to lie down and die in the bushes if I didn't take him back into
the jail and let him stay. I asked, "For how long?" He simply gave me a distant look.
Moondoggie was a free man and had burned his bridge at the hospital
earlier in the day. It was a major Catch-22 and he just didn't seem to have any direction or desire, except that nothing
seemed to appeal to him. It reminded me of a dog that's looking for a place to die and just can't figure out where
to go.
I asked Moondoggie if he wanted to go back to the hospital
and he didn't want anything to do with the hospital. He certainly couldn't stay in the jail. If he did die in
jail, there would be no way to prove he wasn't being kept against his will. It would be a total disaster for everyone
involved.
Moondoggie seemed to be slipping through the cracks just like
Mark. A little too nuts to take care of himself...A little too sick to think clearly or have the energy to do anything
effective...And a little too angry to befriend anyone--A lost hard case.
That was a little over a month ago. Like the prophetically
dying dog, I suppose he found his place lie down...
When I told
Mark that Moondoggie was dead, he just stared. He then said, "So...Mooner passed away on us, huh? He got cirrohsis,
did he?" (I never mentioned anything about Moondoggie's condition to Mark).
A little
later, I asked Mark about his own health. Mark immediately lit up, coming alive in a ferocious fashion, pounding
his chest and launching into a rant about his own recent medical evaluation at the hospital, "My liver! My kidneys!
My pancreas! They're all totally fine! I think the doctors...the doctors were stunned!"
I told Mark
that his blood pressure was fantastic at 119 over 67. He smiled and said, "That's good, huh?--I'm in complete
physical jurisdiction!"
Mark
then went back to addressing Moondoggie's situation. "Moon thought he was so fuckin' cool with his shopping cart and...NOW
HE'S GONE!" Mark seemed to relish in the fact that he "outlasted" Moondoggie.
| "Moondoggie" |
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| (1949 - 2004) - R.I.P. |
In all the time I've spent with Mark, he never seemed to have any awareness
regarding his own health. With Moondoggie's passing and Mark's recent impressive (internal) checkup, he seemed
to be going through a shift in his attitude. Mark appears to have become aware of his own indestructibility.
I
found it incredibly fascinating now that Mark is aware of the mythic immortality he possesses, that he actually confirmed
his first attempt at suicide 3 nights earlier.
I
asked Mark about the incident where he "ended up in the bay" 3 nights earlier. At first, Mark was reluctant to
talk about it. Eventuallly, he angrily confided, "I jumped. I said, 'fuck it' and 'fuck all you' and 'FUCK EVERYONE!'"
When I asked him if he was suicidal, he just sort of vaguely nodded. He then grabbed my hand and tried to cry.
Before, Mark simply would not die. Now, it appears, he knows
he never will...
Click on the link
below to listen to an audio clip of Mark entering the jail on May 25th, 2004.
Mark enters the jail - 5/24/2004
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!["Moondoggie"](/imagelib/sitebuilder/misc/show_image.html?linkedwidth=560&linkpath=http://sperling.site.aplus.net/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderpictures/moondoggierip.jpg&target=tlx_new&title="Moondoggie")
