Then, at Davis, there was a man next to the busking bench who smelled so strongly of urine that I gagged. I understand that he must have troubles that I can't even imagine. I wish I could call someone to take in of such people...he wasn't being disruptive or threatening or doing anything but standing there, but he and his four plastic bags of what appeared to be trash must need help.
Both of these things happened before 9AM. Never mind the warm beverages; send my friend Jim Beam.*
*While the Fiddler is fond of her dram, she does not actually endorse whiskey before breakfast. Usually. Today may be an exception.