A humid day in Brooklyn. A busy day in Brooklyn. I actually stayed in Brooklyn ALL DAY. I'm saying I didn't go over to Manhattan at all. And that's crazy. Laundromat: Brooklyn. Home Depot: Brooklyn. Target: Brooklyn.

Kindness: Brooklyn.

A young boy, maybe 5, was riding his bike and as I was approaching the intersection of Fulton and Vanderbilt weighed down by my twin-size Aerobed, he slowed down so he wouldn't run into me. I smiled. He said I'm sorry, in a very small voice but who was quite aware of the sancity of boundaries. And my heart dropped. So I said, No problem. And I kept on walking. But as I walked I wished this: for the 5 year old boy to grow into a young man who still believes in the sacredness of space; who earns his degree from Morehouse or Yale, or even Iowa State; who buys his father his favorite cologne on his birthday; who purchases a brownstone in Clinton Hill and uses the equity to buy ANOTHER brownstone in Bed-Stuy; who takes his date to see his favorite foreign film then walks home in the rain day-dreaming about places like Tibet, France, the moon orbiting Pluto; who kneels every night and thanks the Stars for BREATH and healthy intestinal flora; who avoids bullets and jail and victimization and nay-sayers and women who hate men who love plants and men who hate men who think universal thoughts; who stands up for justice and against mindless war; who teaches another boy to ride his bike and to remember to have sanctity for other's people's boundaries.

Until next time,

Keith