Speaking on Our Thoughts...

what a day this has been
what a rare mood i'm in
why, it's almost like being in love

there's a smile on my face
for the whole human race
why, it's almost like being in love

all the music of life seems to be
like a bell that is ringing for me
and from the way that i feel
and when that bell starts to peel
i could swear i was falling
swear i was falling
well, it's almost like being in love

-lerner/loewe (the Nat King Cole version is my favorite, but Ole' Blues Eyes also rocked it)

it's a warm night, the skies are relatively clear, and the people in the big section 8 unit are only half as loud as they were last night. brother "H" has only been stumbling in the street drunk a couple of times as opposed to 3 or 4, and instead of revealing to me that "they found a cure for HIV--look it up on your net thing" repeatedly, he's only yelled that to me twice today.

sister "S", one of the local members of "the oldest profession," who has offered me some relief by counting down to "midnight" so she can "sneak up on the roof to give me a gift," is not pressuring me unduly--especially since i playfully let her know that i'm not on "that kind of mission."

yes, the relative goodness of life on the roof of the 'hood is judged by its own unique set of quality standards.

but it wasn't so much that the 'hood was a little more quiet today--that will change tomorrow, when "Payday" arrives for many who are fortunate enough to find themselves employed; it wasn't that i had a chance to teach a quick class of gifted and hungry actors, stealing an opportunity to stretch my gangling legs for a few minutes. although each of these, to themselves, is a delightful treat for a man stranded, isolated in a sense, from most physical human contact and relegated to a Marvel-esque status of galactic "Watcher," they alone were not the reason the fore quoted song lept into my heart and mind.

i sing/ because i'm happy
i sing/ because i'm free
His eye is on the sparrow
and i know He watches
Me
-Traditional

i felt like a giant sparrow today, as so many people came by, called, Facebooked, Twitted, and showed me that there is a God in this sky that blankets me in submission every night. i was humming "what a day this has been," as each one of my fellow alums from Leadership Music came by the theater, or emailed or clicked on the post and donated. it felt good to know that people care enough to part with something as meaningful to the world as money, all for a cause greater than themselves.

i felt the love from all who have sent requests for updates on "Life on The Roof," not because they are satisfying some carnal voyeuristic longing for intrusion into my personal life; rather, they are genuinely concerned that i am eating, am safe, and will not be in harm's way. so i don't mind recording the videos and posting them; they give the added benefit of making me not feel that i am by myself in this quest; that yes, i may lay my head down in a solitary shelter, and i may walk the hot, black tarred surface as the sun beats down its rays upon only two legs.

but i'm not by myself.

i'm lifted by the donations; i'm boosted by the drive-bys and the honks. and even when i get a curious look from some who slow down their vehicles as if to say, "is that what i think it is up there," or even a threat--real or in jest--to "shoot yo' ass from up there!" (yeah, that too, happened today) i'm ever renewed with a sense of hope, and in the words of the old slang in South Nashville:

i ain't pressed.

so here's a quick video of how i get to eating and collecting. don't know if i'll stay up late tonight or not. for some reason, i feel the urge to pull my emergency ladder up early.

long before...midnight.