The Man Behind the Fence

In this episode, The Man Behind the Fence . . .

The crisp morning air invigorated me as I exited the Ford dealership. At 7:00 a.m., my service representative, Jim, assured me my truck would be ready in about two hours. With the sun shining brightly and the temperature a cool 49 degrees, I decided to stroll through the quaint Vista Village downtown area.

The only signs of life away from the main street intersections were the ducks playing in the park's stream, service trucks tending to the area, and litter collectors. The peacefulness of the morning was interrupted only by the gentle hum of an occasional passing car. The aroma of freshly baked goods drifted through the air, drawing me to Danny's Donuts, founded in 1973.

From the walk-up window, I ordered a cup of coffee and a blueberry cake donut, a classic combination that never fails to satisfy me. As I found a cozy spot in a slightly wobbly chair on the outdoor patio, a young man with a beard and cheerful yet somber demeanor approached me. His bare feet were tucked into well-worn, hole-ridden socks (no shoes). Despite his appearance, he spoke with a surprising degree of respect, asking for a dollar to buy a hot cup of coffee.

My initial instinct, shaped by years of living in Los Angeles and New York City, was to be wary. Panhandlers often used deceptive tactics to obtain money for illicit purposes. However, I obliged; this young man's sincerity was evident as he walked directly to the counter and purchased a cup of coffee. “Thank you”, he said.

This simple act sparked a thought in my mind: How many individuals struggling with homelessness rely on the kindness of strangers for their daily sustenance, let alone a place to sleep? As I finished my coffee and donut, I watched him walk away, disappearing behind a fence at the end of the parking lot.

A wave of sadness washed over me as I recalled my early days (1985) in California, walking the streets of Venice Beach and observing the homeless population. I had naively hoped that such a fate would never befall me.

As I continued my walk back to the Ford dealership, I couldn't shake the image of this young man. His story is a stark reminder of the challenges many face in our society, and it has inspired me to be more compassionate and understanding.

My hope is that it inspires you, too.

Comments

The Language of Home: Building a Sanctuary

This episode is for anyone trying to find their footing in a new place—whether it’s a new city, a new job, or a new country. The light in Florence, Italy, has a way of making everything feel like a Renaissance painting—the golden hue on the stone, the steady rhythm of the Arno River, and the feeling that you are walking through a history much larger than yourself. I was there to give a presentation to a class of Gemology students. I was prepared to discuss color grading and refractive indices, but not to be outed as a language tutor . Feeling very much like a guest in a storied land, a hand shot up enthusiastically. "You’re the guy on the podcasts," the young woman said, her eyes bright with recognition. "You’re the one teaching us English." I laughed nervously. If you know my flat Midwestern accent, you know the irony here. I am hardly an Oxford professor. But later, as I wandered the cobblestone streets beneath the shadow of the Duomo, the humor faded into a powe...

Practiced Hands: The 50-Year Warranty

What Doc Burch Taught Me About Staying Active. We talk a lot about "life hacks" these days, but most of them don’t have a very long shelf life. Usually, they’re forgotten by the next app update. But back in 1972, I received a piece of advice that came with a 50-year warranty. It’s the reason I’m still on my bike today, still chasing a golf ball around Carlsbad, and still—mostly—in one piece. The Kick That Changed Everything It started with a literal kick in the pants. A kid at school in Cuba, Illinois, was joking around and caught me just right. By the next morning, my lower back was screaming. My mom didn’t reach for the Tylenol; she reached for her car keys. "Let’s go see Doc Burch," she said. "He’ll fix you right up." Harry E. Burch, D.C., was a fixture in Lewistown. He’d graduated from Palmer College in ’59 and had been our family’s go-to for years. He was a man of practiced hands and steady eyes. After a quick exam and an X-ray, the mood in the room s...

Chasing 70

In this episode, Chasing 70: A Respectful Negotiation with Gravity They say golf is a game of misses. If that’s true, my first round of the year at Rancho Carlsbad was a masterclass in missing efficiently . After a four-month hiatus—during which my golf clubs quietly evolved into a self-sustaining garage ecosystem—Lori and I returned to our local par-three proving ground. Rancho Carlsbad is a par-54, just 1,983 yards long. That sounds forgiving until it exposes every weakness you’ve been politely ignoring during the off-season. I finished with a 78. In most contexts, 78 is respectable. On a par-54, it means I spent a fair amount of time “getting my steps in.” But here’s the real motivation: I turn 70 this August. As a core principle of my Great Un-Working Lifestyle, I’m putting it in writing: I want to shoot my age by my birthday. The Bald-Headed Man Course Around here, we have a nickname for Rancho Carlsbad. We call it the Bald-Headed Man Course. First, because there are no woods...

The Miller Effect

In this episode - The Miller Effect . . . The sun hung high in the sky, casting shadows across the desolate landscape of Huron, California. Dr. Vo, a brilliant yet witty electrical engineer, stood before the main breaker box of a massive 1.4 MW-DC solar array that had confounded everyone who had dared to diagnose its persistent issue. It had been six long months of head-scratching and ten failed attempts by others before the desperate call came into Dr. Vo's office. As the sun's rays bathed the vast array in an orange glow, Dr. Vo stepped up to the Main breaker box, his sharp eyes shaded by his green Cenergy cap. He wore his North Face jacket that billowed in the light breeze, and his presence exuded an air of mystery and intrigue that was as pervasive as the problem at hand. The solar array was a colossal assemblage of panels, wires, and inverters, but the main breaker kept tripping, sending the entire operation into chaos. The workers at the site were on edge, muttering, “We’...

On The Fly

Search This Blog