My Sunday Feeling

The weather has finally turned off cool here in the Little Rock area. The birds migrate South when the season's change. Or they used to back when the seasons really changed. The other creatures that tend to migrate to warmer climes are the street people. Every Holiday season, we see more and more guys (and occasionally women) roaming the streets. It is a pitiful sight.

God knows I am not a saint by any stretch of the imagination. My character flaws are deep and they are deep and they are as wide as the River Nile. But I think I have earned a certain reputation in this town for charity and good works, particularly with children. God also knows that I am a sucker for a hard luck story. I am not afraid to get my hands dirty to help out another soul who is having a rough time of it.

But I refuse to be panhandled.

There are two theories on how to handle this. One is the high-minded approach taken by the senior pastor at my church. He tends to give money when asked as he figures that if they are lying about why they need it, that's between them and God. But that is why he is a Minister of the Gospel while I am me. I have a decidedly darker view of the human condition than does Vic.

I figure that 2/3 of the guys that hit me up on the street are either drunks or just outright grifters. Indeed, about this time last year LRPD arrested a bunch of guys out of Dallas that turned up here to ply their trade. Turns out that they were actors pretending to be street people. I am convinced that I was hit on by one of the actor types last year. He was a black kid of abut 20. He was pretending to be retarded. I say pretending because upon inspection, he was clearly wearing fake-Jerry Lewisesque-false teeth. And I know some people who are MR. They don't sound as stupid as this kid was acting and they comport themselves with greater dignity besides.

While I adamantly refuse to give money to panhandlers it's not anything I am particularly proud of. A woman approached me out in the River Market the other day and said she "only needed a couple of dollars." I told her that I didn't have any money on me and went about my business. Now, I had plenty of money on me and it certainly wouldn't have hurt me in the slightest if I had shared some of it with her. Besides, I have this feeling, probably erroneous, that a woman is less likely to be lying about what she needs it for than a man would be.

Back to the larger point. I used to offer to buy them food. Not a single one ever took me up on it. I quit that practice when one guy became so angry I thought he was going to try to rob me. Now I just tell them I don't carry money and move on down the street.

I remind myself at those moments that I donate lots of money to legitimate charities that care for the poor. I throw my change in the Salvation Army buckets located outside the stores during the Holiday season even though I view their parking the bell ringers outside the entrances to the stores to be a not-so-subtle-extortionate demand.

But I also remember that Jesus didn't say "even as ye do to the guys that ye trust ye do unto me." Maybe Vic's approach is best. I certainly wouldn't feel like such a heel if I were to hand someone a quarter now and again.

So I ask you Gentle Reader. What do you do when you are approached for money by a stranger on the street? Feel free to leave a comment below. You may post anonymously if you wish.

Random thoughts on Wally and the Razorbacks: It is a beautiful Saturday morning as I sit on my front porch and type this. I will head down to the Stadium in an hour or so to go watch the Razorbacks with my brother John and his kid. It is finally football weather. The air is clear and crisp. I can hear the band practicing down the street at Forest Heights Junior High. Fans festooned in red are walking past me en route to War Memorial.

Depending on who you listen to, Head coach Houston Nutt is done after this season. Reputable sports journalists-read anybody not named Wally Hall-are finally going with this. The rumor has it that Nutt has 3 or 4 jobs lined up. Both Nutt and the University deny all of this. But it seems clear to me that he is histoire even as he prepares the boys for what I anticipate will be an ass-kicking from a vastly improved Mississippi State coached by all around good guy Sylvester Croom.

My first thought that Nutt was indeed probably toast was when Wally Hall, the sports "editor" for the local paper took a cheap shot at Nutt in last Wednesday's column when he said"Nutt is a good soon,dad,brother and most likely a good husband (emphasis supplied). That egregious slur was most likely a not-so-veiled reference to the fact that it was revealed last Winter that Nutt had sent numerous text messages to a woman who was not his wife on his state financed cell phone.

The fact that Wally kinda sorta speculates on the subject of Nutt's fitness as a husband now rather than during the heat of the controversy tells me that Nutt is gone. Wally is too big a chickenshit to pick this kind of fight when he knows that his target will be around to fight back. So I really believe that HDN is not long for the Chair of Football up on the Hill.

But enough of this gay banter. Although the notion of a beer at 11:30 in the morning makes even me queasy, I'm going to go down the Stadium to enjoy tailgating with the fans and enjoy the day. It will be fun.

Or as Wally put it yesterday in his deathless and inimitable style, " Some schools might have more organized tailgating, some might have more eloquent tailgating, but none have more miles for smiles as War Memorial Golf Course affords Razorback fans."

More eloquent tailgating? Wally, being semi-literate fat best, probably meant elegant but no matter. Tailgating out on that golf course beats the hell out of playing golf on it.

There will be miles for smiles too.