John Wong

Over the past couple weeks I've been working on a music video for my song titled ON THE CONCRETE.  Originally, I planned to use an actor and shoot a complete storyline about a man falling from normal into despair on the street, but, it turns out, I ended up mixing mostly real shots from the streets with some slightly staged sketches.  Mixing grainy, rough video with clearer shots in an attempt to have a more immediate - real - feel to the video.  Point being, on one of my adventures in shooting these street scenes I came across a rather extraordinary fellow.  He said his name was John Wong.  He was sleeping very near an area where I was shooting a segment with a camera mounted onto the abandoned shopping cart that I had found several days before.  He had a tarp canopy hemmed into the top portion of several carts, which, he was quietly resting under.  The rattling of the cart I was getting my shots with, well, disturbed him.  He popped his head out and gave me what I considered, a mostly crazed look.  I said hello.  John Wong gently asked if I was with Bill.  

"Do you know Bill?"  He smiled reveling to me that he was missing most of the upper teeth on the right side of his mouth.  "Do you know a Bill that looks like you only taller?"

I replied - "I have an Uncle Bill.  He's taller."

"Oh they took Bill to the hospital."  And he pointed down the road.

"My Uncle Bill lives in Washington State."

"Oh," he said.  Then he asked if I needed something to drink.  It was hot, and I thought it was very kind of him to offer me his water.  

"No thanks.  I have water in my truck.  Thanks though."

"Oh" - he repeated.

I continued shooting a lip-sync to the end verse of my song about living on the concrete.  Mr. John Wong disappeared back under his suspended tarp.

I rolled my cart around, changed the position of my camera, picked up shots of my bare feet on the concrete...  Suddenly, as though in possession of the magic of jitsu, Mr. John Wong reappeared holding two unopened bottles of soda pop.  "Here.  Sorry, they only had Sprite.  There's a small choice in that store.  I usually go to the other store.  They have more choices."

Not to be impolite, I took one of the bottles and twisted the top open - "Cheers."  And we tapped the plastic containers in ceremonial fashion.  We talked a bit.  Admittedly, I did not understand a lot of what John Wong was saying to me.  He pointed a lot, and his broken English did nothing to help me get what he was talking about, regardless, I found him a caring man with a gentle, uninhibited soul.  

I thanked him again for the soda pop and quickly moved back to completing my shots.  I had a blue yoga mat in my cart as a prop.  Once I was done with shooting, I offered it to John Wong.  He sincerely seemed grateful, however, to my surprise he would not accept the mat.  I insisted it would be more comfortable for him to rest upon, on the concrete, and, I'm pretty sure he lied when he told me he already had a mat and he did not like using it.  I put my blue mat into my purple truck and grabbed a mostly green five dollar bill that I had stashed in the glove box.  John Wong would not accept my money either.  I suggested it was fair that I pay for my drink.  John Wong emphatically declined my gesture - it began to feel like I was, perhaps, insulting his hospitality.  He blessed what he guessed to be my god, then, he blessed his god, then, he blessed my video project and waved for me on camera, then, I'd say, most importantly, John Wong invited me to come back to visit him as he assured me he would provide me parking and keep me safe.  Oh, and, with great gentleness and concern, he reminded me, "They took your Uncle Bill to the hospital."  And he pointed down the road.

John Wong was an amazing encounter.  And he's a very cool guy to boot.  Living on the concrete.  I expect to re-visit him soon.