The Panhandler's Script

I travel the subways most everyday and I have seen my fair share of beggars. They make their plea. They have their script memorized, timed out to the exact length of the ride to the next stop. They recite it robotically, just as they did it the past 400 times. Inflectionless, emotionless, lifeless. They numbly get through it, and see mild results: coins here or there, maybe even a bit of paper. 

I was thinking about how they give their argument a little soul. Make their script sing. Maybe they can find a way to talk to and through people so they want to open their wallets. As an ad copy guy, I thought I’d give this a crack. 

They have 60 seconds to make their case, pitch me, if you will. Why I should give them money? What would make me listen?

Perhaps this?

“I had the job. I had the wife, I had the comfortable home. I’m here to tell you that I lost all of it with a few bad decisions. I’m here to move forward, to put my life back together. And I could use a second chance, starting now. 

I have nothing but these clothes. I am staying with a close friend so I am not homeless, but I am penniless. I am asking my fellow passengers for a few dollars, so I can buy new clothes and look decent at a job interview. I humbly ask for anything you might spare. You help me, perhaps someone will lend a hand to you when you need it most.”

Would you be more inclined to donate?

When Dreams Disappear

Dreams come in with such force—such energy and vitality. Sometimes they shake me awake. I can taste the events, the reality of it all. The love and happiness, the horror and chills. The bizarreness of it all doesn't seem so bizarre at the time. It's just where I am and who I am at the moment. I am completely, fully present. As soon as waking comes upon me, the dream state vanishes, like a puff. An instant distant memory. What was once palpable and visceral, I can no longer put my finger on. I just can't remember it anymore, only just a few random frames.

Saturdoes

Sometimes you feel like you have it all going on. Got it together. Needle in the groove. Nothing's a struggle. Playin in the zone. Got a taste of that right now. All it takes is a little solitude after an insanely busy week. Nice to take a breath. A little yoga to move the prana. Kids across the street at a neighbor's house. Just me, you, and time to think about my next move.