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No shit, Sherlock.

The man's name was Scott Alan McDowell. He offered a choice between a handful of change or two cigarettes. I gave him two more cigarettes instead. He told me not to forget him, so I won't. I mean, how easily can you forget a reasonably crazy dude you talk to on the street for, like, an hour? He said a lot of bizarre things, and maybe all he wanted was to buy another drink, but there was something else that drove him to where he was. "My brother graduated when he was 19," he said. "And I wasn't there to see it." He seemed genuinely upset by the statement. "Where were you?" I asked. He looked at me sideways.

"I wasn't there."

The lesson I ended up taking away from the experience is that we just don't appreciate what we have. Even when it's gone. Scott Alan McDowell from Maryland seemed to have made a few mistakes that lost him things that were dear to him and never fixed them. Maybe that's a dramatic interpretation, but he gave me a feeling of remorse which made me think about everything I'm lucky enough to have. I mean, this guy said LSD doesn't actually do anything.

I don't really know the words to put the emotions into coherent thoughts. It's just one of those things that makes you think about stuff.

Comments

Carolynn said…
So when are we going to the Bahamas?

As I said yesterday, I was really humbled by how calm you were about the whole thing. I'm not a big fan of strangers, particularly homeless ones, but you kept such a cool head about it, even when he had you gripped in an embrace. Way to go, bro. Really.

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