this young man confronted his wealthy parents about their drinking, they disowned him. For the first time in his life, he was poor. Out on the street.
My parents disowned me and I am impoverished, he announced. I have nowhere to sleep, nothing to eat, no money to buy clothing. I donât even have a car.
The poor rich young man didnât have poor friends, so he didnât have anyone to ask how to be poor. How did one get food stamps? And how did one get a job as a dishwasher or a janitor? How did one act unemployed when the only people he had ever known were the ones who did the employing?
The poor rich young man talked to the friends he did have. Do you know about the bus schedule? he asked. Will I be safe riding one downtown to look for a job?
Donât be silly, said his friend. You can use my car. And we have a spare room at our house that you may use whenever you need it.
News of the poor rich young manâs dire situation became the topic of conversation at many cocktail parties.
Wasnât that brave of him to challenge his parents about their drinking? They really were having a problem with it.
I simply adore him for that, said another. His heart is so good. He meant so well for his parents.
The poor rich young man soon had more dinner invitations than he could accept. Everyoneâs spare room was open to him, as were their refrigerators and spare cars.
Here, take the keys to the Chevy. Here, take these house keys. You can come in our back door any time you need a placeâthe security alarm code is on this card. And hereâs a key to the tennis court.
One woman gave the poor rich young man spending moneyfor house-sitting her cats, another for walking her dog through the park. There were canaries to feed and aquariums to check. There were suits and trousers on their way to the Goodwill that could just as well be given to the young man. Everyone wanted a piece of his welfare. Everyone gave him a key to something.
The poor rich young man learned to live with his misfortune. The ring of keys that dangled from his belt grew so large that poor people on the street nodded in recognition of one of their own.
How many floors must he be sweeping to need so many keys? How many latrines must he be cleaning every day?
Poor people smiled at the young man as if he were a brother, as did the rich, thus giving the poor rich young man the best of both worlds as he made his way through this difficult time in his life.
MAN TYING HIS SHOES
It was not about the shoes so much as the shoelaces. If they were soap, he would have been lathering his hands with them. If they were water, his hands would have been surfing them. He was cleaning their floppy ears! He was orchestrating the shoelaces! The shoes were quite handsome, black wingtips with a real luster, but they were not major players in the drama. It was the shoelaces that excited him and must have satisfied something that others would not understand.
The abrupt quickness of his stooping suggested that he stooped to tie his shoes often. Did his mother not teach him to tie a shoe properly the first time?
Others on the sidewalk swerved around the bulging smile of his buttocks.
His efforts produced two impressive loops that hung down over his shoe like the floppy ears of a beagle.
When he started walking again, his face showed he was not happy with his freshly tied shoe. It may have been too tight, or he might have sensed that it was too loose and would again be two unbowed strands after a few steps. He walked over to a bench near the bus stop, sat down, and retied the same shoe.
This had to be about something more than shoestrings. He must have been trying to solve an invisible problem, perhaps mending a relationship that was unraveling.
He gritted his teeth as he looped and pulled the shoestrings, then gave both loops a final tug for good measure.
The man was in his fifties and should have worked through his problems by nowâor at least found a
My parents disowned me and I am impoverished, he announced. I have nowhere to sleep, nothing to eat, no money to buy clothing. I donât even have a car.
The poor rich young man didnât have poor friends, so he didnât have anyone to ask how to be poor. How did one get food stamps? And how did one get a job as a dishwasher or a janitor? How did one act unemployed when the only people he had ever known were the ones who did the employing?
The poor rich young man talked to the friends he did have. Do you know about the bus schedule? he asked. Will I be safe riding one downtown to look for a job?
Donât be silly, said his friend. You can use my car. And we have a spare room at our house that you may use whenever you need it.
News of the poor rich young manâs dire situation became the topic of conversation at many cocktail parties.
Wasnât that brave of him to challenge his parents about their drinking? They really were having a problem with it.
I simply adore him for that, said another. His heart is so good. He meant so well for his parents.
The poor rich young man soon had more dinner invitations than he could accept. Everyoneâs spare room was open to him, as were their refrigerators and spare cars.
Here, take the keys to the Chevy. Here, take these house keys. You can come in our back door any time you need a placeâthe security alarm code is on this card. And hereâs a key to the tennis court.
One woman gave the poor rich young man spending moneyfor house-sitting her cats, another for walking her dog through the park. There were canaries to feed and aquariums to check. There were suits and trousers on their way to the Goodwill that could just as well be given to the young man. Everyone wanted a piece of his welfare. Everyone gave him a key to something.
The poor rich young man learned to live with his misfortune. The ring of keys that dangled from his belt grew so large that poor people on the street nodded in recognition of one of their own.
How many floors must he be sweeping to need so many keys? How many latrines must he be cleaning every day?
Poor people smiled at the young man as if he were a brother, as did the rich, thus giving the poor rich young man the best of both worlds as he made his way through this difficult time in his life.
MAN TYING HIS SHOES
It was not about the shoes so much as the shoelaces. If they were soap, he would have been lathering his hands with them. If they were water, his hands would have been surfing them. He was cleaning their floppy ears! He was orchestrating the shoelaces! The shoes were quite handsome, black wingtips with a real luster, but they were not major players in the drama. It was the shoelaces that excited him and must have satisfied something that others would not understand.
The abrupt quickness of his stooping suggested that he stooped to tie his shoes often. Did his mother not teach him to tie a shoe properly the first time?
Others on the sidewalk swerved around the bulging smile of his buttocks.
His efforts produced two impressive loops that hung down over his shoe like the floppy ears of a beagle.
When he started walking again, his face showed he was not happy with his freshly tied shoe. It may have been too tight, or he might have sensed that it was too loose and would again be two unbowed strands after a few steps. He walked over to a bench near the bus stop, sat down, and retied the same shoe.
This had to be about something more than shoestrings. He must have been trying to solve an invisible problem, perhaps mending a relationship that was unraveling.
He gritted his teeth as he looped and pulled the shoestrings, then gave both loops a final tug for good measure.
The man was in his fifties and should have worked through his problems by nowâor at least found a
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