“You wanna go where everybody knows your name.” I think I got those lyrics right. Men and women are much the same everywhere. We want to feel connected and knowing a man’s name is about as basic as it gets toward connecting with a fellow human being. I’m really not that good with names. I make up for it by sheer repetition which I will do now. Hello Jack, Byron, Steve, Tyler, Luke, John, Charles, James, Tim O., Tim, David, Skot, Scott, Caesar, Ron, Harvey, Jason, Daniel, Cedric, Paul, Miguel, Larry, I may have missed someone, and don’t forget Mitch, Brad, and Brian the UGM staff. And don’t forget our servers…

Remembering a name is a little like greeting someone with a smile. I am not particularly gifted with a great smile. Some of you are and it is a powerful thing. A smile is like the gentle answer that turns away the anger and loneliness of the street.

I’m not proud of it, but the record this week in the “calories consumed at a single dinner” category goes to me for my French toast and bacon dinner. The big Lang stove top really does nice French toast. Daniel B. just kept serving it out and I kept loading it up about eight slices at a time, hot off the grill. Four loaves of bread, two lbs. of bacon, one quart of maple syrup, at least a pound of butter, a gallon of milk, a gallon of orange juice, and they wanted to know if there was cake and ice cream for dessert. Which there was. I should make them eat salad for a week.

That’s the news from The Men’s Shelter, on Phinney ridge.

Ben Paul