Panhandlers in New York City are hardly a rarity but I’ve had this eerie feeling that I’ve seen more panhandlers on the streets than usual. Usually, I avoid them at all costs; scams are rampant and, in my early days here, I fell for more than one. Now I give to groups that help the homeless and politely decline the rest.
Somehow, tonite was different. A reasonably well-dressed older man approached and asked for help in getting food and I reached in my pocket for a dollar. Having been reading candidate diaries, I was real tired of fights.
"What do you think I am?? A bum?? I don’t want your money, I just want some food."
I blinked not knowing what to do.
The tears welled in his eyes. "What is it? That I’m black? I lost my job and haven’t eaten for two days. I got a donut this morning on 42nd Street. I don’t want your money; I’m just hungry. Keep your money, just buy me some food."
There is a hole-in-the-wall take-out with poor atmosphere and surprisingly decent food on my street. I asked, "Would you like something from there?"
"Oh yes, praise Jesus."
We went in; he ordered a cheese quesadilla and asked of he could have a snappple. Total cost (including tax and tip "cause I know these people): less than $5.
Was it a scam?
I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m sick of knowing that being hungry is a reality for far too many people. I’m sick of hearing Hillary-bashing and Obama-baiting when there are so many problems to be solved. I didn’t ask if the man supported Obama or Clinton or was outraged at racist photo-manipulations and sexist barriers. I didn’t ask whether he needed healthcare or wanted NAFTA reshaped.
I did what I could. I bought him a meal.
I’m not proud of it; I’m ashamed – ashamed that this is what the election should be about. Not math. Not nameless bodies. Not goddamn statistical wins or tactical losses.
Tonite, as two Americas converged on my one block in NYC, I miss John Edwards’ voice. He knows there are people who say, "In Jesus’ name, just help me get some food."
That’s my diary. Go back to your candidate wars and move on to more important issues.
Me? Tonite, I’ll spend some time missing John.