Kabuki Breakdown Theatre

A particular type of misfortune appears to be commonplace in downtown Cincinnati. I'm referring to the guys who are visiting from Cleveland (or Dayton, or Columbus) who have suddenly run out of gas, or had their ATM cards taken. Their family, including children, is usually nearby waiting in a car. And they only need a few dollars to turn the entire situation around.

You would think our highways were lined bumper-to-bumper with stalled vehicles - each with a sweet family of passengers inside, anxiously hoping for their fathers return.

And the gentlemen who have met this fate have a common characteristic; when they start telling you this story, you can't get a word in edge-wise. If they were to pause for breath and tell me in a burst of candor "I need money. I'm at the dead end of a lifetime of bad decisions and substance addiction." I would probably empty my wallet out of sheer admiration.

Self-knowledge is the first step towards recovery. And even if the money ended up being smoked, drank, or injected, there is dignity in knowing that both the supplicant and donor made an honest transaction, and didn't need to endure a well-rehearsed fabrication.