The Ambassador of Santa Monica and Venice

I met the Ambassador of Santa Monica and Venice this morning. At least that's what he said he was, although to be honest I was surprised to see a diplomat using the bus. He then broke into song, before telling a young woman she should be in the movies, and then laughing maniacally for five minutes. The rest of the bus passengers, almost all UCLA students, stared hard at their books in an attempt to avoid the burning question of why they were building up so much debt to get an education, when this man could eke out a living just by being happily insane to strangers.

I get to see nutters like this all the time, mostly because the bus I take goes from Santa Monica (beaches, plenty of public toilets, and relatively liberal police who won't kick the shit out of homeless people and then dump them off downtown) to the Veteran's centre (where presumably they get a nice cup of tea, some free medication and the chance to swap a few war stories).

It's easy to tell which bums are Vietnam veterans because they're male, of a certain age, and they're the only one's who aren't begging. I'm not sure what it says about a nation that a significant proportion of it's homeless population have psychological problems stemming from their military service. Maybe the British Ministry of Defence has an opinion.