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Half a block from here, a woman in her mid 70's asked me to help her cross the street, "The sun is too bright, Mister, and I can't see!" She had been robbed ten days earlier, she said, as she was helped across another street, "This lady had her arm around me, but she put her hand into my coat jacket and took my wallet. That's why I have this purse now, with the zipper to my chest." Then, "It's so hard for me to do anything, I have no family near me. Thank you. You have a good day now."

Earlier, I had run into TJ Lax, who informed me that our mutual friend, Mac, had died. A dwarf, Mac led a more or less normal life, and had a job at a book publisher, until he was fired for drinking. Drinking and porn were his two main vices. "Mac was into combinations you and I have never heard of," TJ laughed. TJ was Mac's best friend and the last person to see him alive. They had lived in the same building, until TJ moved away, but each week, TJ would come by to see Mac, and to take out the trash for his friend. That Sunday, they had hung out, but when TJ returned on Friday, Mac was lying on his stomach under the kitchen table. He had drank himself to death at 55-years-old. Going to work once, Mac was hit by a car and didn't even realize it, he was so drunk.

The last time I saw Mac was on a bus. He was joking about going into the porn business, "You know, freak porn!" Mac is one of those very rare people I have never seen angry, bitter or resentful about anything. Rest in peace, Mac.

And here's the man himself, as captured by TJ:

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