Frank

Unfortunately, I haven't been able to track down Frank to ask if I can use his real name in this post. Well I say unfortunately, I suppose that's a good thing really.

I met Frank when I started working at a homeless shelter in South Kensington just a couple of months ago. My friend Josie had been going for a few weeks and could not stop talking about how amazing it was helping out there, just serving tea and coffee and getting to know the guys who would turn up. Frank was one of her favourites and one day, she came home with this heart rendering story to tell:

'So I was talking to one of the guys at the shelter today and he told me something I just didn't know how to respond to. His wife died a few years ago, which was the cause of his depression, losing his job and finally, his homelessness. Since then, he has been sleeping on her grave. He misses her so much and talks about her all the time. One night, he was attacked by a group of guys he knew whilst sleeping in the graveyard. They beat him and injected him with drugs. He doesn't know why they did it to this day... What am I supposed to say to that?'

Wow.

This story struck me so deeply, I just had to go along to the shelter; guys like Frank deserved to be cared for and loved. It completely shattered all my previous misconceptions about the homeless. He wasn't some imbecile who'd gambled or drank all his money away. Neither was he a gangster or into drugs or any of that nonsense. He was a regular guy who had to face an unfortunate tragedy in his life that rendered him entirely vulnerable to the cruelty of this world.

The next week, I woke up early on Friday morning to head to the tube station with Jose. Whilst at the shelter, I met so many inspiring people. From the lovely, to the little-bit-rough-around-the-edges, the drug addict to the stone cold sober. For some reason the thing that shocked me the most was that all these homeless guys and girls, well... they were just normal people. I don't really know what else I expected. I learned that those who drank away their lives weren't necessarily 'imbeciles' and getting into drugs wasn't 'nonsense'. The pain and heartache in that place is horrifying, but at the same time the love and compassion the guys have for one another is unbelievable.

This is where Frank comes in.

Frank's story is heart-breaking to say the least, but when I got to chatting to him, I learned about the man behind his agonising tale. He told me of how he used to be a personal shopper, which was ironic for a man who hated shopping, and he could even name drop a few celebrities that he'd been assigned to. He taught Josie and I and the other guys magic tricks and numbers puzzles, gave us life advice and encouraged us to stick at our uni courses. He reminded me of the stereotypical silly Uncle, who was always causing trouble at parties and is off winding up the kids rather than chatting with the adults. Upon being asked his life dream, he pondered and replied with smiling eyes, 'Well, I suppose that was to have a perfect wife, a faithful dog and a nice, little flat to live in. But I've had that dream now, so anything else is a bonus really.' One time he even told us the story of how he stopped taking medication for his depression and instead, decided to spend his time and money making other people smile. That, he said, was his medication.

One week, Frank came in and handed a few of us lucky ladies a chocolate bar each (ever the charmer, eh Frank?) An elderly couple had taken pity on him earlier in the week and handed him a bunch of chocolate bars and a giant bag of coppers. So Frank, with only £9 to his name, no home, no source of income, logically brings the chocolate to the shelter and gives it to us staff to say thank-you, whilst donating the money to the church because it would only 'weigh him down'. I don't know about you but it makes me feel guilty about having so much and sharing so little.

The next week, Josie comes home from the shelter (she sometimes does a different day to me) saying, 'Frank has the chance to get a job and a flat'.

It turns out that he has somehow managed to apply for his old job once again and knows a guy who can give him extra time on paying the deposit on a little place. However, the catch is that he has to get the job back to be able to pay for the flat. It's an all or nothing situation. Oh and the job people are only going to get back to him two days after he is supposed to have signed the contract for the flat. So to us, it's looking pretty bleak.

However Frank, pretty difficult to beat down, seems hopeful. 'If I turn up on Wednesday in a suit, you know I've got it', he beams.

Wednesday arrives. I don't think I've ever been more nervous in my entire life.

I can't work Wednesdays at the shelter because I have class on that day, so I'm relying on a text from Jose.

That message actually ends with 'now I've got to get my 27 suits dry cleaned!'

Ask anyone I saw that day and they will tell you I was grinning like a loon. I cried with happiness for the first time in years because a man who deserved everything, got that which so many of us take for granted.

I'd like to think this story speaks for itself. Frank is an Ordinary Incredible for so many reasons, but above all, because he never gave up. He never let life beat him. Two years on the streets, widowed, attacked, hungry and desperate and he came out on top. I'm so honoured to have shared just a few days of my life with this amazing man.

You're a Goddamn Treasure, Savannah

Savannah is a 17 year old girl with a Youtube channel full of ramblings, songs and stories about her life. SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD PEOPLE. If I consider myself a child still then I hope I don't offend her by saying that it's the youth that we should listen to. Her words aren't profound or revolutionary in the slightest. They're just the common sense that so many of us refuse to listen to. But all you have to do it look at children (now I mean in like the 0-10 age bracket, though unfortunately that bracket is getting smaller and smaller every year) to see that appearance doesn't matter. They'll run around like loons, mud, chocolate, pasta sauce smeared all over their clothes and faces, making friends with anyone who wants to join in with their game regardless of how long they spent doing their hair that morning. And do we love them any different? ER no. We think it's cute that they haven't a care in the world and tell them not to grow up so fast, life is cruel when you're an adult.

So why at a certain age does it become obligatory to care so much about the way you look? I understand there's the whole starting to feel sexually attracted to one another and stuff. But in my personal experience, any relationship I've had that's begun solely based on physical attraction has ended up fizzling out and going sour anyway. Your other half may be initially attracted to the seven inches of slap you've smeared on your face or that tight booby dress you're wearing, but you can't hide your 'real' self forever, physical or otherwise. Because if you like it or not, you are more than just a pretty face. Plus, imagine if you marry someone (I know, scary stuff) and you had to get up every morning to put make-up on before snuggling back down with your spouse, before he/she could see the horrors that lie beneath the shimmer and shine. Ridiculous isn't it?

Oh and I don't mean to leave out any macho types that might be reading this. Same applies to you. You might think that all your potential other halves care about is your muscular forearms and that you can flash the cash, and I won't deny that some do. A minority. A minority so small it's actually ridiculous that they get so much media attention. Most of us just want someone to love us for who we are, someone who can make us laugh and hold us in the bad times. Though thinking about it, isn't that all that anyone wants?

I'm not saying that there is anything wrong with wanting to look nice. Just so long as you're doing it for the right reasons. If you think that wearing a dress and heals and sparkly pink lipstick looks wonderful, then go nuts, just as long as you're doing it for yourself. I personally can't think of anything worse to inflict upon myself, but that doesn't mean that I try and force my dress code on my four other much girlier house mates (OK except that one time in my Identity Thief series but she was allowed to get her own back).

Savannah is an Ordinary Incredible because she has had the boldness to speak out for those who are too ashamed to do so; who comply just because society tells them so and are too afraid to just be themselves. She has no PA to deal with any backlash she might receive from sharing her views, no media empire to twist what she's said into something more easily digestible to those who just want to conform. This ordinary, yet beautiful girl had the guts to say what do many of us have shied away from and in her own creative style too. That's why she's incredible.

(If you click through to YouTube you can find the lyrics in the 'about' bit below the video)

Andrew Kaufman is a Superhero

All My Friends Are Superheroes is a book by Andrew Kaufman and is one of my two favourite books of all time. In this story and his other books, Andrew Kaufman brings to life real life issues in a such a quirky and playful way that you can't help but grin when reading them. I especially love All My Friends Are Superheroes as it shines a light on all those talents and personality traits that are often considered 'ordinary' and are therefore overlooked. I would recommend this book to anyone. You can borrow mine of course, but I'd encourage you to buy your own afterwards, so you can refer back to it if you ever feel a bit down about life. Here's the blurb:

All Tom's friends really are superheroes. Tom even married a superhero, the Perfectionist. But at their wedding the Perfectionist is hypnotized by her ex, Hypno, to believe that Tom is invisible. Nothing he does can make her see him...

Six months later the Perfectionist is sure that Tom has abandoned her, so she's moving to Vancouver. She'll use her superpowers to leave all the heartbreak behind. With no idea that Tom's beside her, she boards the plane. Tom has until they touch down to convince her he's there, or he loses her forever...

I'm going to take a guess that that all seems a little odd to anyone who hasn't read the book. I want to point out that this is, without a doubt, a book for grown ups and not just fun a children's story. The basic lesson behind the story is that Tom, seemingly the only non-superhero in existence, is about to lose the love of his life because he fails to see what is special about himself. As someone who is ordinary, what does he have to give someone who is so perfect? Alongside his friends the Spooner, the Ear and the Impossible Man, what does he really have to offer?

Without wanting to give away too much, he has a lot more to offer than he realises. Which is probably true for around about 99% of the population today. Although I think modesty is a great thing, in our society it has progressed to mean self deprecation, rather than just not being a show off. Far too often we hear people talking about what they can't do, what they suck at and wish weren't inherent aspects of their personalities. Since when did it become the norm to hate on yourself all the time? How are we supposed to provide and support those we love if we fail to see how we are good enough to do so?

I read this really good quote on tumblr recently...

'She deserves better, you say. I say: You’re a goddamn coward. What she deserves is an actual person she can connect with. She deserves you, or me or the entire world; she deserves someone achingly real and honest. She deserves a human being equally raw to pursue her and love her and, perhaps, destroy her emotionally, but she deserves all that as well. She doesn't deserve anyone’s sugary fairy tale. She deserves to float freely, with you, or me, or the world, into the very depths of her own psychosynthesis. She deserves to explore the meaning of the word "intimacy", with someone beside her that will care regardless. She fucking deserves all of it. So, pluck up the courage and be with her or leave her in peace but don’t you dare "sell" her your own"inadequacy" as a lie so that, again, you manage to comfort your conscience and eventually come to feel that you love her exactly because you’re letting her go. Because, darling, that’s bullshit. That’s only your own little self-created lie laying behind a much bigger lie; it’s not even properly concealed within itself, you fucking idiot.'

I don't know where this comes from, but I don't think it really matters. I think Kaufman would agree with it at least. What I'm trying to convey is that if all you focus on is your own inadequacies, what do you really expect to achieve in your life? So embrace yourself, with all your imperfections and mistakes. Because life is far too short to waste wishing you were someone else.

Kaufman belongs in my Ordinary Incredibles series for a variety of reasons. From what I can find about him online, he came from pretty humble origins. Attended an ordinary school, in the ordinary town of Wingham Ontario (with the tiny population of just under 3,000) and really made something of himself. Now a radio producer, film maker and writer, he is living proof that it doesn't matter where you come from, just where you go from there. And on a more personal level, he wrote a book that touched my heart so profoundly when I first read it four years ago, that I haven't stopped raving about it since. So thank-you Andrew Kaufman, for your colourful, creative and unique style of writing, and fantastic sense of humour.