Lindy Enjoys Carnival Festivities, Too!

No one enjoys the annual hullabaloo St. John Festival brings to Love City more than the ubiquitous Lindy, one of the denizens of the al fresco homeless shelter known as downtown Cruz Bay.

Late on the Saturday morning before the St. John Festival’s Food Fair, another denizen of drink had passed out in the gravel along the sidewalk to Connections and Lindy was on the scene, leaning over the supine sot and checking out the situation.

While it appeared as if Lindy was concerned about his compadre’s well-being as he leaned down, instead Lindy reached into one of the bags by the stiff’s side and gently removed a mostly-full half-gallon bottle of rum, unscrewed the cap and took a deep drink.

Driving past in traffic, I gave him a hail-up – “Lindy, don’t steal his booze!” — but as I proceeded towards the Post Office I wasn’t able to see if he replaced the bottle in the man’s bag when he was done. I just assume there is some honor among whomever.

Lindy’s Parking Patrol
On Sunday, Lindy was enjoying the hullabaloo of the Food Fair – following his normal routine of casing parked vehicles on the outskirts of the activity.

As my son Oliver and I sat in the shade in front of La Tapa before heading home, we spied Lindy again, this time scoping out a car parked in the no parking area in front of Julius E. Sprauve School on Hill Street — which is normally reserved for police vehicles which can’t fit in the handicapped space at the Leander Jurgen Command or civilians who are exempt from traffic citations or towing.

Most residents know of Lindy’s propensity for reaching into open island cars and picking up small change, or cigarettes, or booze, or anything that strikes his fancy, so we just watched to see what he was going to find in the dark blue Suzuki.

The porch of an abandoned Cruz Bay building is littered with reading material.


Lifting Literature
After peering in the open passenger window, Lindy circled the vehicle and reached in behind the driver’s seat and came out with a shiny new magazine, which he tucked under his arm as he made his way up the street towards the Texaco.

Shortly thereafter, Lindy, still with his new magazine under his arm and now with a cold beer in one hand, was seen strolling down the street behind St. Ursula’s, probably heading for his favorite perch on the porch of the abandoned wooden building across from the car rental lots that have sprung up on the government property surrounding the Elaine I. Sprauve Library and Museum.

Strewn with a carpet of discarded magazines and newspapers, the porch provides a nice view of the Winston Wells Ball Field and a major fire hazard to the neighboring day care center and library.