There is this homeless-looking dude sitting outside the cafe window. When he glares at me, I nod obediently, and then slam down my computer charger, out of frustration. I’m at the cafe because we’re out of power at my house after a rampant little episode of powerful vituperation on the part of the gods in the sky last night. Time goes by and I see the role this world has chiseled down for me on this day. One man across the street walks in circles, essentially. The homeless man’s look has gone from knowledgable and sagacious to scared, maybe frustrated. I look up at the tall parking garage across the street. This town is built on nothing. It could all end, anytime, at a stocky dude from Indianapolis with bad breath and a Gorillaz t shirt that’s too small for him. I see this and I see the good in the homeless dude sitting there and I know you’ve heard this a thousand times but we live in the land of the haves and the have-nots and within this game the fruit, the fat, the plenty and the colors, are often the spoils of those who simply don’t call them their own but rather tally them along like a stray dog. The spoils are never your own and we live in the land of the haves and the have-nots and the haves envy the have-nots and the have-nots know the haves like a tic-tac-toe board. Know this and you will not solve the malady but organize it into a tamed Rotweiller on a leash that will outlive you.