Those advertisers

Yah, a Toronto radio station wanted to get some buzz going for their talk radio format, so they went out and hired real true homeless folks to sit around and hold the signs instead of actually panhandling; at least I think that was the idea, since they paid them a typical panhandling day's wage, whatever that is. The hat must be for the tips, a job well done.

More here.

Meanwhile, the panhandling debate is raging in Atlanta. There a dispute with a panhandler led to a death. Whoeever heard of such a thing?

It's probably the #1 question asked of yours truly when I go out and speak. "What about panhandlers."

My friend Joe M. sees it as a survival strategy.

I guess I've been aware of panhandlers standing uncomfortably close to my neighborhood ATM. It feels a little intimidating. Is that a reason to outlaw it? Because some seedy looking guy is asking me for thirteen cents (one of our old time local panhandlers was known as 'Thirteen Cents' because that's all he ever asked for, and always with a smile).

My problem: I know too many people panhandling for self-destructive reasons. And I really don't care to provide money for a heroin fix. And I'm really weary about the guys working this neighborhood near Nightwatch because I think they interfere with traffic and distract drivers. One guy goes right out into the road so he can work the left turn lane on Dearborn at Interstate 5. I bet he doesn't have to go more than two blocks to make his drug connection.

So, do something else nice. You can provide conversation (often appreciated) or power bar/bottled water. Or, put something in the mail so Nightwatch can keep on feeding and sheltering 180 people every night. We're running about $70,000 behind expenses at the moment. There are lots of alternatives to giving the guy with the cardboard sign a buck.

But know this -- I don't always follow my own advice.

"God is so Damn Sneaky"

Sermon title? Nope. The exclamation of an Anglican hooker when she saw Father Kim and I in the bar.

I was about 2 feet inside the door of another unnamed tavern when one of the customers dropped a HUGE "F-Bomb."

If you don't know what that is, email me, or ask your granddaughter.

OK, this is the guy who goes to the conservative Lutheran church, the guy who's always trying to engage me with discussions about the difference between a cross and a crucifix (and what he wants to know, do they both work on vampires?)

That whole end of the bar is getting louder and louder. It's politics and alcohol. Something must give. The Jaeger girls and several buxom customers have created a maelstrom of testosterone.

Meanwhile downtown: ran into Bruce B, really happy to see each other. Bruce and I are on the corner, recalling old fights at Nightwatch from a dozen years ago. A guy interrupts, looking for bus fare to Northgate -- so he said. Bruce, 15 years homeless (and looks it) whips out two bucks and gives it to him. Later, Bruce tells me "I'd rather have him rip me off than you."

Now, the guy needing bus fare looks like a 40 year old business guy, the sort of guy who would work in a lab, or an insurance office. Neat, trim, decent clothes. He takes the two bucks from the homeless guy who has been on the street for 15 years. What?

Twenty minutes later, the middle-aged insurance sales guy is walking down the street at Third and Bell, looking for all the world like he finally found his drug connection. Was I surprised?

Nope. Maybe I've been doing this too long.