The night began with a little walk. Upon turning the corner at the blink of an eye I spotted the infamous tricycle that ignited $$$ symbols and ideas into my head. Once again I found myself convinced that this was gonna be a big hit. I looked around in shame as if I was about to do the unthinkable. The tricycle sat next to pieces of a swing set and a trash can. Ethics played a crucial role in my decision making process. I continued to look around as if God was watching my every move. Well, not really God...just the neighbors or perhaps the home owner himself. Trash I thought. Out of respect and dignity I walked around the bushes of the home to the front porch. The damn house had multiple doors. Which door was I to knock on? I knocked. No answer. Damn, I want that antique tricycle but I don't want to steal it if its not for the taking. I walked around to door number two. The dog in the backyard barks. The Suburban sat in their drive. No answer. I glanced back at the tricycle. Damn, I could sell it to the antique store accross the street from work. How much would I accept? How would I negotiate? thoughts penetrated every fiber of my being. I suddenly begin to get butterflies of the ideas rushing through my head. I speed off around the block a few times and then come back later in the night to make sure it indeed is trash. I stroll the streets of my hometown. Time to myself I am finding myself. I need a new career. I'm not happy with my current one. I could be making much more money. What if these delapitated houses on this particular street were torn down? What if I could develop this entire street? Clean it up. Buy out all these white trash folk and make this brick paved road an enchanting refuge. The canopy of mature tress and the brick paved street would surely draw the crowds. Who has this same vision? What would be like to be a politician and visit each individual home and question their difficulties? Would I be loved by the people? What kind of difference could I make in their lives? How would I be able to communicate to them without passing judgement? I walk around for ten minutes. On my way back to the tricycle I spot a charger enclosed in the grassy back yard of a delapitated neighborhood. At one point that car was a classic. Rusty and abandoned I wonder what it would be like to restore the car. How much would I offer to take the car from their hands. How sweet would it be to match up with a restorer who had the patience to teach me the tricks of making the restoration. Titles. Obama. He was right. I once was ashamed of my interests because of the titles. Who gives a shit, I'd be doing something I enjoy. I walk to the place of the tricycle. It's gone. Someone saw value in the thing. I can't believe it. Someone stole my jewel and some cash I could have made. I now realize my gift. A gift an endowment. Thank you for it. Fear is my only enemy. I should have snatched it when I saw it. Damn it!
