Beneath the Neon

First off it's even interesting that I'm writing something about a book. Anyone who knows me knows I really don't read all that much unless there are pictures or it's about something that I already know as a shape or look. So in completing this hopefully there is some growth that comes with it.
Anyways

Beneath the Neon.
I bought this book originally trying to find the one tunnel in this town that I had heard about were all the graffiti artist go. Boy was I in for another trip by the time that I was even done with chapter one. I was completely drawn in by the what even layed right next to the Vegas welcome sign. Only living Las Vegas for the little time I vaguely even know about the storm drain entrances by the ones that I see when I drive on the freeway and streets. Never would I have thought that one there were storm drains that ran directly under the strip, and that so many people took refuge down there. Not just for a night or two, but were talking years and years. But this book wasn't about a awareness, like look there is a population down here, there was an understanding a want to know why, a story. The people depicted and spoken to to do this book were of such a wide variety with different stories to go right along with each person the author interviewed. From Vets to just your average junky they all had a fascinating tale to tell.

For those of you that are quick reader this book with fly by. I mean most of the writing is conversational pieces and short descriptions about camps, walls, and general surroundings. But these conversations are make the story. I mean who would ever come to think that a Las Vegas Chef (yes a Chef) lived down under the strip. Of course, it was never disclosed were he worked but just think of that one. A trucker who's wife threw him out of the truck and just took off. A husband and wife who lost everything and just ended up on the street. Run away teenagers... I think the most interesting interview came when he visited Phllip, a man would lived in his deemed Valley View drain, and ran into Tyrone and his mother, Gwen. Yes that is right his mother came to visit him from Atlanta. I'm not going to disclose how she found him and what not, but the unconditional love that this mother showed for her son. Of course the shamefulness of the the son having his mother come and visit him and having to have her stay in a hotel and not his place of residence, seeing how he doesn't have a physical address or a front door. More of a gypsy type camp that has nothing but the bare amenities. All in all just a well written piece, and to think it falls under a travel guide. I wanna see you go down there..

Lastly a poem found on a wall

"There never was a child
In your head
Never born, Never dead
Maybe when I'm done
I'll mourn
Now I'll come with fire and scorn
With lust for life
Under hood and horn
Black-Flamed
Lament and forlorn
Breathe in life
I gasp river reed
Logos manifest
I am, I said
There was never a child
In your head
Self-Born, Self-Dead
Believe what you read
One-Third will all be bled."