There is a woman I see in the cafeteria of my government office building just about every day. She is there in the morning, and there until the cops kick her out at night. I call her Cindy Lou Who because she kinds of looks like a Dr Suess character. Cindy sits alone engaged in animated conversation with no one at all. She always seems to be deeply engaged, and appears to be listening to a frequency only she can hear. I always want to say something to her, to tell her that the rest of us see her, know she is here...but I don't. And I'm not sure anyone else really notices her much. Cindy Lou is just another casualty of the American Dream: alone and crazy and passed by.
Outside Union Station in downtown DC there is always a cast of whack-a- loons, nut jobs, and Lou Who's worthy of an all start roster for crazy folks. One guy is there almost every day yelling about the government ripping off his social security check. Often when I come up the escalator from the Metro stop there, the first thing I hear is this mans deep booming voice saying " The mothefucking US fucking government stole my motherfucking check". I love watching the tourists with small kids blanch and look stunned as they hear Check Boys profane tirade. Welcome to DC motherfuckers. I once witnessed a guy go to the trouble of dragging a nice portable amplifier with speakers and a microphone and everything so he could preach from the bible. The only problem was, he preached in French. Tres' Whoopsie Msr. NumbNuts.
I thought of the French preacher when I was in Rome last year. We were riding an open top sightseeing bus past Harry's Bar on the Via Vittorio Veneto, when I saw an Italian man on the corner raving and gesturing and looking for all the world like Cindy Lou's Roman cousin. I realized in a flash that there is something more or less universal about crazy. in spite of the language barrier I instantly recognized this guys rant: it seems that mothefucker Silvio Berlusconi stole the dudes check. Ciao baby!.
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