The two men in the parking lot didn’t make any sense. One figure moving erratically at warp speed—first doubled over and zigging to the left—then head reared too far back and zagging to the right and finally an abrupt stop that flung his body over the “handlebars” of his metal walker. The craziest motions, no rhyme or reason, a St. Vitus Dance. He looked like a turbo-charged puppet with a bipolar master.
The other figure was just as curious…CONTINUE READING