A View from the Street
Several Sundays ago I was bumbling about the downtown breezeway, standing in lines and taking my turn gathering up the freebies offered to the homeless. At the end of one line stood a man I knew only by face and circumstance. He asked a moment of my time. I obliged. He explained he'd listened-in to one of my diatribes and was intrigued. He thought it worthy of print, suggested I write it down and submit it for publication. I blushed under my beard, thanked him for the flattery and said I would think about it.