So there I was, at the Farmers’ Market last week, setting up my tent, and the market manager walked by. I asked her who was playing music for the market that day, and she told me some homeless guy who plays the cello. She had met him downtown and invited him to play for us.
My first reaction was OH MY GOD! What in the hell is she thinking????
I am ashamed of myself!
The guy showed up fifteen minutes early, lugging his backpack, which must have weighed seventy-five pounds at least, all his worldly possessions in it, and carrying a cello in his free hand. I went over, introduced myself, and showed him where to set up.
Fifteen minutes later he began playing music from the angels.
For two hours he played classical music, and to say he played beautifully would be a disservice to him. It was the first time in over a year at that market that I saw people stop what they were doing and just listen to the music, and after each song he received heartfelt applause.
I am ashamed of myself!
I made an assumption, and I admit that to you all. I assumed since he was homeless he couldn’t possibly be any good, and that assumption made a complete ass out of me.
I’m not sure what the hell I was thinking. I’ve written countless articles about the plight of the homeless, how that social ill affects people in all walks of life, but at that one moment, in that one situation, I tossed aside all of my righteousness and embarrassed myself.
Mea culpa!
I am a writer. I consider it my job to reflect real life, to tell stories which cause reflection, and to be as honest as I possibly can be. And that’s what I’m doing now, at this moment, to all of you.
Telling it like it is!
TEASER
I have a name for you: Dollie Mae Priest! I’ll explain the significance of that woman next week…anyone care to guess beforehand?
No talent there . . . or is there?
Bill
“Helping writers to spread their wings and fly.”
Billybuc
Artistry With Words 