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Learning From Street Corner Drama
By Don Iannone
"Spare a buck, friend?"
Asked the gravelly man's voice next to me.
His voice...penetrated me,
So...haunting, so...empty, so...lifeless.
"No, afraid not," I blurted out without even thinking,
"Please? Just a dollar," he begged,
For an instant, I looked at the man's very badly bruised face,
His bulging, swollen eyes,
His unshaven, scraggly whiskers that seemed to point at me,
His strangely crooked mouth,
Mocking me in a most subtle way,
Such a hideous accusing face, I thought,
Asking for money, but really asking for something more.
My heart jumped at his sight,
So...pathetic, I thought,
Why does God allow people to come to this?
The light changed, giving me an escape,
My feet quickly carried me across the street.
Pausing momentarily on the other corner,
I saw the full view of the rumpled man,
His small fragile stature,
Again, his gray...dying face.
His eyes caught me staring,
"Bastard," he railed,
Waving his fist in my direction,
Like I had anything to do with his pain, I thought,
Did I really deserve that?
I felt hurt, but whose...
My own or the desperate man's?
Then remorse, a deep pang of guilt
grew in the pit of my stomach,
I thought, pity the poor insane man,
He doesn't know what he's saying.
Suddenly, an angry woman's voice rose out of nowhere:
"They should do something about him!"
Stunned, I mutter in autopilot surprise:
"Yes, uh, something, I think,"
My empty words trailed off into thin air,
I forced a smile that failed to appear,
as I Inventoried the rotund woman's
shimmering mink coat, her expensive jewelry,
and her, well, surreal plastic face.
"Bastard," she added,
Not again, I thought,
"Excuse me?" I queried.
"Him", she points,
"That disgusting old bastard 'cross the street."
I felt helpless at this point,
No real words seemed to come,
"Yes, uh, have a good day ma'am."
I rushed away from the sour old woman,
"They should do something about him," she screamed,
Her fist waved uncontrollably at my silent back.
Later that evening I realized,
That I could have done something different
on that busy noonday street corner of life,
That the poor old man and the rich old woman
were indeed tipping points in my journey
to find greater heart in everyday life,
I then realized...
They had given me something quite valuable,
They provided the drama I needed
to see myself in action...
A clean mirror to see how
I really am at living in the moment.
I give thanks for street corner drama
and the lessons it teaches me.
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Sunday, March 07, 2004
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