mumbler

I wonder from time to time who takes care of 'the mumbler,' the ever so dirty hobo on my block who yells about kennedy and jews and vietnam and bitches (i think he means everybody) when i pass by him. I've never seen him leave the block, and he is often really confrontational, but ultimately harmless i think. But what is funny is the warmth the retailers have for him. He's friends with the hip kid at the corner market-porn shop, the short man at the smoke shop who always says 'be safe' as i leave, and now, at kid valley, the guy behind the counter just gave him a newspaper, about which he is mumbling to himself, (and me?) it's funny. I've felt a certain warmth toward him once as he screamed crazy at a line of frat boys in front of pesos.