Funk

Urban living is getting to me today.

Working the entire day in a ten story concrete cube means that I usually need to escape for lunch to get some sunlight and fresh air. Unfortunately, I work in civic center which isn't always so fresh, so I regularly ride some form of public transit to a more pleasant lunching atmosphere.

That journey takes me through an especially colorful part of town. The Tenderloin district is known for it's drug dealers, users, and other shady types. I used to be so disturbed by the cast of characters, that I would take the underground train just to avoid the spectacle. Over time, I became used to it, and now rather enjoy the show much of the time.

Today though was somehow my day to find myself next to far more than my statistically likely share of smelly people. Young and old, street and professional. There were laundry mildew mishaps, musty old men, leave-behind BO, and urine stench a go-go.

I couldn't help but wonder how this could happen. Today was nice and cool... no hot day sweaty excuses this time. I know that some of my fellow citizens live in much less luxury than I do. But one thing seems likely to me: If you have a home, you have access to bathing facilities. Some form of sink, shower, or tub comes with anything you could possibly refer to as a home. That gives one the ability to wash clothes and self.

I imagine that cultures change on this subject. I know that Europeans think Americans are far too concerned about such matters. Cleanliness is one American trait I'd like us to hold on to. If notions of cleanliness ebb and flow in culture, I wonder in which direction this one is headed.

Today wasn't a good sign.