Performance art at its finest.

It has been a long couple of weeks. Work has been demanding, and at times trying. Mostly, it has been a combination of factors, kind of a wave effect, that crashes into our small warehouse occasionally. It should wash away soon.

Plus, I have been writing an article on suicide for the kind lady who publishes my work in her newspaper. It is called Street Speech, a homeless advocacy newspaper, and I think she is a kind soul who tries to help. Maybe it is all of her work trying to help the helpless, or maybe she is just a crusader, but I am not one to quibble, seeing my writing in print is thrilling. So, she said next months issue was on suicide, and asked if I could write something and I said sure.

But, researching suicide is a painful process, reading the numbers, the heartbreak of the survivors, the desperate straits of the victims can be very taxing. I love to write, and this was an experience not to be missed. I am a better person for the effort.

Additionally, I have been researching an article that I intend to sell about the repeated temptations to use atomic weapons that have gripped officials over the years. In places, at times and for reasons that seem ridiculous. It is terrifying how casual they were.

All of these factors weighed me down, and took a toll on me, more than I ever imagined. Thursday I went to lunch, tired, haggard, and feeling low. Low clouds made the whole area seem gray and deathly. A steady, light, uncomfortable, dreary rain made everything seem bleak, and mirrored my mood.

Our lunch room in on the fourth floor, and I stopped to look out the window. Along the edge of the

sidewalk a row of parking meters (conveniently shaped like a microphone) stood, ready to collect their fee. A lone man braved the weather, and potential shame. dancing up to and singing into one of the meters. Moving toward and away from the parking meter and singing an unheard song, his enthusiasm was delightful.

I watched for several minutes, I smiled, and felt better. Here was a man who entertaining the world, and nobody was watching except me, and he couldn't know I was watching, from a half block away, and four stories in the air. There was no way to know what he was singing, and it didn't matter, his talent and love for the material was obvious. Dancing in time to his own drummer made me believe the world still had some magic, if you looked.

Watching for several minutes the performance moved me, and for a few brief minutes there was a reason to believe in the future again. Whoever you are, thank you, don't ever stop performing. The world needs you.