People have to have heroes, but no person can ever be as big as the
need, and so a legend grows around a grain of truth, like a pearl.”
–Peter S. Beagle
My cell phone alarm clock went off at 5am.
I slowly took a shower and began to wake up to the day’s work. I drove
to a residential area that bordered Carnegie Mellon University (CMU)
campus. I emptied the contents of my pocket into the back seat. I
folded up an 11 by 17 inch piece of paper till it was a small square
and placed it in my back pocket. I took off my sandals and slowly put
on my steel toed work boots. i walked down the street and rested on a
wall by a bus stop, I sat there for a very long time and thought.
Because of a car accident I had as a pedestrian in 2001, I still have
trouble walking even a few blocks and have to stop to catch my breath. I
walked from the bus stop to my fave coffee shop, the 61c. Out of a
sense of nervousness I began devouring all of its cafe food, fresh
squeezed orange juice, hot croissants and a chocolate raspberry scone
together with a pond of decaf ice coffee. The Barista glanced at me wondering if
I was a Rothschild and this was my normal morning tribute to
consumerism. I sat and collected my thoughts. As the morning progressed a
friend walked in and asked, “hey aren’t you going to hear Obama speak
this morning?” I laughed a little bit too loud and gave him some vital phone
numbers. The activist lawyer shook his head and stated, “well Vincent
you will never be out of a job. Here is my private cell phone number, call
collect from jail and I’ll come visit.