While I’m driving through the skunkweed city, I’d like to know why the homeless people have $200 shoes when I can’t afford a new pair?

Why is it that if you give them food they’ll snarl at you like your killing them. If their homeless, they should be happy to get food.

The other thing is, as a veteran, this veteran, Uber Joe does not appreciate people using “veteran” as an excuse to panhandle. If they can be out there panhandling they can get a job. There’s one down in the city at Camden Yards. He’s 19 and has as sign saying he’s a homeless veteran—a veteran of what? I gave him my lunch one day and he snarled at me. That’s what I get for trying to help someone out.

The guy with the $200 Air Jordan’s was at Caroline and Orleans by Hopkins.

Okay, Uber Joe, as to your assertion that a panhandler could get a job, this cynic posits, why change career paths in a tough economy, or, as Shugga Lawndry would say, “Nigga, this is a job!”

The Camden Yards spot, when I used to walk by there every night these guys didn’t even bother panhandling me. Part of it was professional courtesy for one pedestrian to another. But it was mostly because I tended to walk by during their shift change. I figured out they were working a cooperative sign exchange and got the lowdown from Little John, one of the sign guys who graduated to house hacker and made money to keep the house car on the road and was charged with shopping and transport in return for being relived of sign duty:

Seven dudes rented one house on Hanover Street for $1500 a month. They were all heroin addicts. They shared the same sign. The spot pulled in $700 per day. The money was shared out in a cash room and used to pay rent, pay utilities, buy heroin and buy food. The guy who put out the money to keep himself insured as a licensed driver was relived of sign duty and took on transportation and shopping duties.

As for the guy on Caroline and Orleans street, based on what I know of the area—and I used to drink with a guy who took one of these spots by force—those Air Jordan’s are equivalent to the Vial of Giladreal [the hot pointy-eared babe with the blonde hair with a fetish for big-footed boys] from the Lord of the Rings. You see, when the Orks come collecting, a lone brother can’t very well stand and fight, so he needs to be fleet of foot. Legend has it that such sneakers, when permitted to get dirty, lose their powers of flight and imperil the wearer. So keeping them clean is of utmost importance to a brother who wants to stay one step ahead of the hoodlums!

There he stands, like Hermes on the road to Olympus, sandals of winged victory well-oiled and snuggly-strapped should here hear the words every Harm City panhandler does fear, coming from the voice of a bigger, younger claimant to the corner—“Yo, is that my sign!”