But it had been a very weird and interesting 15-year run. 1990 to 2004. . . . . Like most things in my life, it started out as an accident. My original idea in 1989 was to print up 50 copies and give ’em out to my friends as Christmas presents. It never occurred to me that I’d end up printing up 2,000 copies every year for the next 15 years. And the thing would practically become a full-time job.
My partner and co-publisher, the great B.N. Duncan, fancied himself as kind of a scientist or professor. He viewed himself as an anthropologist studying this strange and exotic subculture: The Streets. He had his little notepad that he always kept in his breast pocket. And after taking a photo he’d jot down the time and date and location, and maybe a quote from the specimen, um, er, I mean subject. “AHH, AHH, that’s very interesting what you say,” Duncan would say. “AHH, mind if I take a couple more shots?”
Myself, I looked at myself sort of like a documentary film-maker. And I was documenting every facet of my life in whatever medium happened to be available. Photos, writing, comics, music.
Probably one of the most interesting things about the Telegraph Street Calendar was that Duncan and I were part of the street scene ourselves. Almost everything else you read about the homeless street scene is written by some journalist or sociologist, viewing the streets from an outsider perspective. We were insiders, so you got more of an unedited and unfiltered view than what you normally get.
We had a little vending table in front of Cody’s Books where we hawked our wares. And we became almost like a homeless Chamber of Commerce. Whenever a new homeless person would hit the scene, they’d often check in with us first. To sort of get the lowdown as to where the scene was at. And to many people on the scene it became almost a cherished rite-of-passage to get their photos featured in the Calendar (I used to joke: “The two major complaints we got were: ‘Why don’t you put me in your calendar?’ and ‘Why did you put me in your calendar?'”). Many street people lack a sense of belonging to anything. But being represented in the calendar gave them a sense of belonging — of being an accepted member in good standing — of the legendary Telegraph Avenue street scene.
When we started the thing in 1989 I was 33 and still on the cusp of being a young man. By the time we ended it in 2004, I was 48 and on the verge of being an old man. So it’s like I wasted the prime years of my life working on the damn thing. Of course I would have just wasted it on something else if I hadn’t gotten so fascinated and immersed in the Calendar project.
3 thoughts on “Telegraph Street Calendar 2004”
What’s weird is the stupid things I remember. Like, I remember that jacket that I used to wear back then. And I wonder: What the hell happened to that jacket? And I remember that checkered table cloth. If I remember right, Kim gave it to us. Which was sweet of her. There were often a bunch of dames back then that were circling around us. Duncan in particular. We were both like two art-fuck-ups that couldn’t really keep up with the practical matters of life. Duncan could barely dress himself. He’d be dressed in rags just because he was too preoccupied with other shit to take care of mundane details like clean clothes and etc. And women would sort of mother him and bring him clothes and stuff. And I think that’s how Kim contributed the table-cloth. Guys know what that’s like. We’re kinda’ dirt-clods when it comes to interior decorating and that stuff. Women are always chiming in with helpful suggestions like table-clothes for our vending table and doilies for our end-tables and girly-stuff like that. God only knows why I still remember stuff like that 10 years later.
PS. The chick in the photo actually did buy a copy of the calendar. But I don’t think it was because of my hypnotizing routine. But because there happened to be a reporter and a photographer there at that exact moment. So I think she was under the mistaken impression that that Calendar thing might be important or something.
PS. The woman in the photo actually DID buy a copy of the Calendar. I think because she saw the reporter and the photographer there, Covering The Story. So she figured the thing must be important or something.