It was while I was out on a walk tonight. It was about 8:30. I was doing my usual thing as I walked; looking into lit windows; judging choices; thinking about taste and class and the plight of the bobo.
This man had a pool table in his front yard and he was playing by himself. There was a Stones song coming from whatever music making device he had at his side.
The yard was a mess of old outdoor furniture. Much of it was overturned and the cushions were dirty and disarrayed.
I thought to myself, "Dude, why don't you clean up that yard; get rid of some of that junk; do a little landscaping?"
Then the answer came to me - he's shooting pool in his front yard, all alone and listening to the Stones. The last thing he needs is the voice in my head.
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