Patrick

I'm on a first-name basis with the homeless man that lives in my neighborhood. Granted, the names uttered from his mouth include a range of various edible items, such as pumpkin, honey and sugar. However, I always say hello to Patrick when I see him.

You probably are wondering how I have come to know Patrick, and I wish there was more to the story. A few years ago, I was reading in a small park near my apartment, on a beautiful September Sunday. Patrick entered the park and inquired over the subject of my book. I proceeded to explain that Shadow Divers was about a group of recreational wreck divers that found an un-registered WWII German U-Boat. I probably lost him at the book title.

I wish I knew more about Patrick. Like where he sleeps every night. And how he ended up on the streets. I have a feeling he was quite intelligent in his former life.

But I think what really amazes me is that whenever I see Patrick, he is always smiling his toothless grin. Granted, he might be certifiable crazy, but I have to believe he is genuinely happy. All the guy has is the clothing on his back and his other homeless friends, but he probably appreciates the little things more than we do. Or at least more than I do.