What makes Santa Cruz, Santa Cruz? Is it the beach? Is it the sunshine? The redwoods? The proxmity to amazing places like Big Sur, or San Francisco?
Those are nice features, but I think what gives any place it's character is the people. Most of the people I come across in this town are pretty interesting. You obviously have a large amount of losers, but that's just the
way demographics work - a few winners, a few losers, and a whole lot of average boring people.
Here's a little tale of a loser...
"Are you drunk?" she asks.
"ummm... nooo. I'm just making some canvases."
"Well I heard these loud noises and I thought that you might be drunk. You know that there are people in town who can help you?"
Right off the bad I realize this is an weird conversation to be having this early in the morning. I mean who drinks at six in the morning? Even college kids don't do that. Then she continues,
"There's people you can call up and talk to and they will help you. They can talk with you and they'll even come out to your house to talk."
"Ok, that's nice, but I'm just making canvases."
Her demeanor is nervous and shakey and she stinks as she always does. Already I think this lady is crazy, but then she verifies my suspicions by saying,
"Are you hearing voices?"
"What?"
"Do you hear people talking to you? Do you hear voices in your head?"
Right then and there I should have shut the door, locked it and ended that conversation, but I have this perverse curiosity that sometimes leads me down dark alleys, or places that say 'Do Not Enter.' This conversation was definitely a place that said, 'Do Not Enter.' But I stood there and continued to see where this would lead.
"You know that you can call these people up and they'll come out to your house and talk to you. They can help."
"Ummm... that's nice. But I'm fine. I'm just making canvases."
I thought that maybe she's just trying to beat around the bush and try to tell me in some incredibly obtuse way that I'm being loud. So I ask her if I'm making too much noise.
"Are you sure you're not hearing voices?"
I figure that's a good time to end the conversation so I politely say goodbye and close the door. This was one of those conversations you have with people and you get left with this really strange feeling afterwards. You know how sometimes when you talk to people who are really weird, they somtimes make you feel like you're the weird one? That's how I felt. I know I'm weird, I just sit around and paint all day, I don't collect objects, I don't watch TV. So I know as far as the standard American goes, I'm an oddball, but I know I'm not hearing voices.
Two Weeks Later
The Note is a page ripped from the county phone book. There's a couple post it notes on the front and a number is highlighted with several arrows in various pens pointing to it. It's the phone number to the Psychiatric Emergency Ward at the local hospital. Written on the notes is a message:
Immediately I get pissed off. What in the world is lady doing putting notes on peoples' door for?
And where in the world did she get this idea from? For anyone who knows me personally,
I'm pretty damn happy. In fact, I'd say I'm happier then I've ever been in my life.
I'm painting all day everday, making bronze sculptures, living at the beach, hanging out,
working hard, riding my bike around, and basically doing whatever I want, whenever I want, wherever I want
and I don't have to answer to anyone. No boss and no schedule other then the one I make for myself.
So as I'm rolling around all these thoughts in my head, I hear a knock on the door. It's Suzie. I open the door and put on my angry face. We all
have an angry face, some people do it better then others. I feel mine is pretty damn good. I owe that trait to my mother. For 18 years I practiced pissing her off.
I was able to push her buttons in so many ways and if you practice something for 18 years, odds are you're going to get good at it.
Being able to instantly read a persons character, then finding out exactly what their weak spots are and then exploiting them isn't exactly a positive trait unless you're a politician. But nonetheless, it's in my arsenal.
So I open the door and immediately put her on edge,
"What the f@ck are you doing putting notes on my door?! If you have something to say to me, say it to my face. You don't put notes on peoples door, that's just freakin' weird."
"I don't know what you're doing over there, but you're moving the light in my ceiling."
Talk about being thrown for a loop. I thought I had control of this conversation and then she whips that out? What I quickly learned is that insane people always have the upper hand in a conversation. You can't argue with 'em. Logic doesn't work, and if they don't like where the conversation is going they pull something like that out.
I step out of my door and she backs away in fear. Which to me was quite comical, since I'm a pretty small guy. My brother got all that fat in the family, I can't break 150 if I tried.
"Look, don't put notes on my door. Don't talk to me, and don't knock on my door. You're ridiculous."
"You need to talk to these people, they can help you. And can you move your easels so I can water the plants?"
This conversation is too much, communicating with these types of people is emotionally draining. So I move my easels and make a snide comment about, 'oh you're finally doing your job around here.' You see, the landlord discounts her rent if she takes care of all the plants and gardening. So I knew my comment would piss her off, cause she loves her plants.
"Don't get smart with me you little queen!"
Nice. I could tell I hit trigger point, she was pissed. I would have continued, but she's crazy and I it's best not to piss off the people that ride the short bus. Or the 'quarter cheese' as it's sometimes known.
"You need to call these people. I'm going to call right now."
"Go ahead, I don't care."
So she starts dialing and I walk into my house, grab my digital camera and walk back outside. I figure this would make for some good
video footage. I was able to capture some, but it's not as good as I had hoped and I won't post it here online for legal reasons. (Remember, she's crazy.)
When I return there she is standing in the middle of the courtyard holding the phone out to me. I figure I'll amuse myself and pick up the phone, but there was no one there and I quickly hand it back to her.
"No, no, no, they'll be back."
By now I had lost interest and I told her I didn't need to speak to 'her people,' and that she smelled bad, she was weird and that she was scary. I walked back inside and assumed that was the end of it.
Wrong.
A few minutes later I walk into the bed and breakfast and talk with my friend whose hanging out inside. I want to share the evenings events with him since he has his own Suzie stories. We are both in there exchanging stories and having a good laugh, when three police officers walk in through the back door.
"Is Kevin here?"
"Yeah man, that's me, what's up?"
"Your neighbor said that there was some banging on the walls and we wanted to make sure everything was alright."
"Well, I'm doing just fine thanks."
"Ok, take it easy."
"That's it?" I say.
"Yup."
"What if someone's putting weird notes on my door?"
"Let it slide."
Then I say, "Officer, she's crazy."
"Well it's Santa Cruz, what do you expect?"
I moved out of the house since I'm heading up to Yosemite and I spoke with some current residences of the place and I was informed of the most recent events.
She tried to discipline the landlords kid, she called the cops a few more times and then she tried to run away from the cops when they arrived.
Eventually the crazy lady was sent to jail.
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