For most of my life now I have been watching people. I remember doing it in Chicago in the mid-fifties,backed up against a building so I didn’t get knocked down and trampled. I’d be standing on a really busy street downtown during the rush hour and just watching the people rushing to get somewhere. Now I go into town here in Hillsborough and watch both locals and tourists and sometimes wonder what their lives are all about. If I sit outside at Cup A Joe’s, across from the old hardware store for an hour or more there is just no limit to the assortment of unique characters I might encounter. Sometimes I try to listen too but if I plan to use anything in my writing from what I might hear or see, hell, by the time I get done interweaving a couple or more of their looks or sounds or characteristics there just ain’t no way anyone might recognize themselves. I might sit near the steps to our Riverwalk and fill my head with images sometimes, and underneath my breath I’m humming a wild solo in a 1950 jazz rendition of How High the Moon. ┬áMusic flowing through my mind helps me enjoy my people watching all the more. Gosh, Hillsborough is a treasure with all of these absolutely unique folks to keep a watch on and every now and then I get the feeling that some of them are keeping an eye on me.

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