Chauffer? Sho-fur? Chaffeuer?

No matter how you spell it, driving homeless women to shelter is so. . .gratifying.

Really. And fascinating too.

They couldn't really believe their luck, given the lousy cold rain and all. So everyone was happy.

And I'm reminded how profoundly mentally ill many of the homeless folks are. Obsessive compulsive disorder, profound depression -- all obvious conditions, though I'm no trained expert. But trying to survive and navigate the city has to be a drag when you have bad brain chemistry. I mean, just hanging onto the placement ticket for the seven minute drive between Operation Nightwatch and the shelter was too much for several women. One woman told me that she forgot to register, after she got out at the shelter. And another woman didn't want to leave Nightwatch at all since she wasn't wearing any pants. She did have a long coat, nothing showing. But how do you live without pants? Hmmm?

The really weird thing -- once she got into the vehicle, we had a wonderfully lucid conversation. But upon arrival there was no rushing her -- she had to check and recheck to make sure she didn't leave anything in the car. Maybe she learned her lesson. Not going to lose her pants ever again.

Love to all my fans, Rick