The sun beats down on his leathery face as he keeps his hands in his pockets to keep his jeans in place while he walks slightly hunched. It is clear to see that he walks with pain in every step as if the soles of his feet are raw. His hair is gray and wiry and when he talks he keeps one eye slightly clinched.
His meals sometimes come from trashcans in downtown Nashville on a Friday night. Tourist are quick to throw away a half-eaten sandwich, which becomes his dinner at times.
“The government passed that law so they card ya’ up until you're 105 years old now,” he told me. I laughed and responded, “Well, you don’t look anywhere close to 105.” He shook his head and said, “But, I can’t buy a drink cause I don’t have ID.”
“My life was a wandering; I never had a homeland. It was a matter of being constantly tossed about, without rest; nowhere and never did I find a home.” - Jan Amos Komenský, a Czech philosopher (1592-6170)