Judy Jackson, Assistant Town Manager of beautiful Stinkwater, Colorado, was deleting her junk emails, when a familiar face appeared at her door: Clem Waddlesworth, the president of the Downtown Business Owners Mutual Support Association.
“Got a minute?” Clem growled, and settled himself in the chair across from her desk without waiting for a reply.
“Actually…” she started to answer: If it were anyone with half a brain, yes, I have a minute — but in your case…
Instead she answered simply, “Sure, I have a minute.”
 “We’re not happy about the homeless guy.” As usual, Clem got right to the point. “He’s sitting around, doing nothing, here and there, all over town. Doesn’t fit with the image of a tourist-friendly downtown. We want to know what you’re gonna do about it.”
“Actually, we don’t have anything in the municipal code that prohibits someone from ‘sitting around here and there’, downtown or anywhere else. Does the Association want to propose something to the Town Council?”
“The Association doesn’t particularly want to get its hands dirty. We try to keep a positive image. We just want to bring something to your attention — actually, we wanted to bring it to Dale’s attention…”
Dale was Judy’s boss, the Town Manager.
“…but I hear he’s up in Denver this week,” Clem continued. “Seems like he’s the only one around here that knows how to get things accomplished, in a timely manner.”
“That’s right, Dale is in Denver. So maybe you want to come back next week?” Judy leaned back in her chair and smiled. “Or even towards the end of next month?”
“Well, I think we ought to get something done about this right away, the sooner the better. Let me just ask you: don’t you see it as a problem that we have this homeless guy much living on the street?” Clem got up from his chair and walked to the window. “There he is now.” Clem pointed towards the park. “Just sitting there on that bench, staring at the sky. Don’t you think we have a serious problem?”
“You’re asking my personal opinion?”
“Yes, I want to know what you think. I’ve offered him a job, several of us have offered him jobs. He quite frankly doesn’t want to work. He’d rather sit around on our public benches, being very obvious about doing nothing. Doesn’t that bother you? A homeless guy who wants to be useless? Taking handouts from whomever?”
“Actually, Clem, the homeless guy has a name. His name is Karl. And I think all of you in the Association ought to thank your lucky stars that he’s even here at all.”
A quizzical look came across Clem’s face. “How’s that?” he snorted.
“Well, when’s the last time you sat in the park like that, and looked at the sky? Just doing nothing?”
“You must be crazy. I’m running one of the biggest businsses in Stinkwater. I'm on the Chamber board. I'm president of Rotary. I'm putting three kids through college. I don’t have time to sit around looking at the clouds.”
“That’s exactly my point, Clem. You and I are too busy, making things happen, to take a minute to sit around and do nothing. So Karl does that for us.”
“Does what for us?”
“Karl sits around, doing nothing, for the rest of us who are too busy making money and running the town. It’s not an easy job, you know — sitting around being useless. The pay is terrible. It’s the ultimate non-profit business. But someone has to do it.”
Clem stood there with his hands on his hips for a long moment, his mouth slightly ajar. “Judy, you’re crazy. Have Dale call me when he gets back.”
“Actually, Clem… I’ll do just that.” As Clem headed out the door and down the hall, she murmured under her breath, “Have a busy day…” |