365 2/27

I could lay down on green Swedish moss

Wherever my bed roll could be tossed

I could find sleep in the back of a cab

365 7/16

Everybody's trying to say I'm wrong

I just want to be back where I belong

Walk of Life

Jumped into a cab before sunrise in TriBeCa. As we sped through the backstreets of Chinatown, LES, and into Alphabet City, the cab driver's cd started playing Dire Straits' "Walk of Life." My grandfather's favorite song before his death, I felt as if my Pap Pap George was whispering hello to me, on a cold wintery January night.

I gave the cab driver an obnoxiously large tip and complemented him on his choice of the Brothers in Arms CD. He gave the money back, saying that I was his best customer of the night, and that was enough.