A few days ago I went to Walgreens in Monterey to get a prescription. The pharmacist asked if I could come back in half an hour when it would be ready. Since I had my three-legged companion, Brie, with me, and it was a sunny day, we took a walk outside. We found a little alleyway and walked through it to a low-standing brick wall, and I decided to just sit there in the sun with Brie. The wind was blowing so my hair looked a little more wild than normal. I had my carrier bag that I use for my leg accessories with me, and there we sat. The sun felt great, but not the looks that people were giving Brie and me. Some didn't want to make eye contact, some just shook their heads in disgust, but most had a sympathetic look for my "poor little rich girl, Brie." And then a homeless man walked up and said, "Do you mind if I sit here?" I replied, "It would be great." He took out a pack of cigarettes and offered me one. I said, "Sure, I would love one." This was a rare opportunity for me to have one in peace, without my wife, Pat, around." So we started talking, and as the conversation was getting better, I started thinking this is one of the smartest, kindest person I've met in a very long time. On that note, when I got up we fist bumped and I was on my way. In that moment, thinking about what it felt like to be homeless, if only for a half hour, I learned so much. And to all the people who gave me "looks," I would like to let them know that homeless people are humans also. So, let me leave you with the words of one of America's greatest songwriters, John Prine. "If you're walking down the street sometime and spot some hollow ancient eyes, please don't just pass them by and stare, as if you didn't care. Say "hello in there. Hello."