I want to be your biggest fan, you’re greatest ally and the only thing that never brings you down.
I am privledged.
Not in the ways of Fortunate Sons, nor by the route of the Jewish American royalty. My wealth is not measured in matters of blood or connections.
My wealth is that of the lucky onlooker. One who see’s the great whales off the coast, a rare constellation, the miracle of life in the wild. Uncommon things, but clockwork to their being.
I see the city wake up each morning and wipe the dust from its eyes. I hear the clank of the lunch trucks opening up and smell the hiss of grease first hitting the grill.
The newspapers fall heavy on pavement and the wandering homeless take their morning stroll.
Joggers dance through the park in their warm up pants, bouncing along to their iPods strapped tightly to their biceps.
I am the first cup of coffee pulled from the little store on the corner. I am for no customer but myself - the silent people watcher.
I am the first drop of the olive, pure and sweet in my own right. Crisp, smooth and finishing cleanly across the palate.
I am the crumbling of the scone onto napkin and the smooth croon of Benjamin just as the sun comes up.
