have to get out into the traffic. But this day I heard footsteps behind me and looked back to see the familiar form of a local derelict weaving his way behind us. I thought, He’ll never catch up. But he did and, without missing a step, staggered out into the road and back up to the sidewalk in front of us. There he turned, looked us up and down, and said, “Tha’s good. I likes ’at. Tha’s real good. I likes it.” Then he headed off down the street, mumbling to himself over and over, “Tha’s good. I likes