Rise up

Yesterday, I had the good fortune to attend the Cavs game against the Celtics. You know, the one where LBJ still struggled a bit but played better than the previous 3 games and told his mom to sit her ass DOWN to boot.

It was a good time, since we won. But also fun was the decision to walk to the Q and back. The weather was brisk, but dry, and the walk from my Ohio City abode to the arena was a short one. We got there early, checked out the sorta lame FSN Fan Fest (where I again humiliated myself at Cornhole), then decided to grab a beer. We opted for Wilberts, which was mostly empty, rather than kick it in the massively packed sportsbars filled with former frat boys and current Warehouse District residents. (Sorry, dear readers, if any of you feel particularly stung by that burn. I'm just sayin', is all.)

Highlight of our walk around downtown? Easily the moment when we passed panhandler #73, who opted for an unusual rhetorical strategy - honesty. Rather than going with the apparently tried-and-true bits about needing $2 for the train or insulin shots or a sandwich, this guy smiled and lounged in a broken down wheel-chair, holding a sign that said something along the lines of "Why Lie? I Need Beer." I chuckled, and contemplated donating, but was cash-less. My date also laughed, and when we passed, he shouted to her, "With a smile like that, I don't need any Colt 45!"

Priceless.