SCREAMING MAN
sometimes I forget that I live in the city
sure this is not Manhattan nor is it Hong Kong
Washington DC is a city just the same, just a little like Mayberry than Gothem City
with living in the city there are an assortment of oddities and often some dangers

our neighborhood of Mt. Pleasant butts up against Rock Creek Park
our house and our front door looks out across to a small patch of woods with righteously tall old hardwoods
being that this is the city and this is seemingly remote area for the city
occasionally there are those that make the woods their homes
and I do not mean squirrels and turtles
now days there are less and less vagrants setting up camp
dog traffic is great enough to dissuade any new settlers
as well as the police responding to complaints and calls
but there are those that have refused to budge
SCREAMING MAN is one of these characters

over the years his "spot" has moved from location to location
finally settling in a sliver of land between Park Road and Beach Drive (aka Rock Creek Parkway)
he has no tent or any shelter to speak of
just bags of stuff and his trash, some of which I can not discern
each day he migrates about the city
he has been seen at various bus stops and resting on different front steps or stoops
I am never sure if he is headed to shelters, soup kitchens, or to make deposits in his Swiss bank account
his agenda is unknown to me
all I see is him marching up the street with his body slung over his crutches
his one shoe and his swollen foot without a cast but a slipper that would normally be worn over a cast

he ambles up the busy road at his own pace
screaming all the way
what he is saying or who is screaming at is unknown to me
we have spoken before
and he spoke clearly, politely, and in complete and articulate thoughts
he refused any food or clothing I offered
gave his thanks and moved on

each day he makes several passes by our house
our dogs love for him is only surpassed by their love for Mr. Johnson, our mailman
when they hear him (or maybe smell him) they go wild
rush to the door
pouncing on the plexiglass that blocks the glass
as the glass has been broken once
and we can not risk injury having it break again

the worry is not the barking
the worry is that our timing is such that his pass occurs either while I am already in the woods
or as we step out the door
the dogs will only chase and bark
perhaps that is enough, or in this case too much
there is no desire to torment this already tormented mind
yet there are worries and dangers
either the dogs could be leashless in the woods or my petite little lisa could be out with Dean at her side, Grant in the baby Bjorn, and the dogs on leash
there is no way she could contain the dogs
their might and their passion combined with their fit athletic frames would be more than she could handle
she would have to let the leash go before she injures herself or delicate baby Grant

there have been no incidents on my watch
lisa has not retold of any events
but a neighbor had a wine tasting party the other evening
at this party he retold a tale of him having to make an emergency stop as my dogs crossed the street to agress the Screaming Man
my apologies to the Screaming Man
my thanks to James for stopping in time
it is difficult to balance all the individual needs and all the different personalities of the people in such a compact space as Washington DC

sorry if my rants and ramblings have been more directionless than usual
perhaps it is sleep deprivation
perhaps it is just my way

the main thing may be I have the time to BLOG
but I do not have the time to proofread or edit
so I PUBLISH AND POST, PUBLISH AND POST!

excuse me while I PUBLISH AND POST