Last Saturday, I went down the Inner Harbor for a day of leprechauns, Johnny Rockets, and people in crazy Otakon outfits.
For those of you who aren't from Baltimore and don't know of it's amazingness, there's an amphitheater right in the center of the Inner Harbor called Harborplace and every Saturday and Sunday evenings they have live, outdoor performances for free.
After having a delicious grilled cheese and wandering around the waterfront for a while, the leprechaun and I settled down to watch a barbershop quartet-kind of deal perform. They sang many favorites, like "My Girl" and "Stand by Me." However, there was a performer of a different kind out to steal the show. A tall, skinny, very dirty man wearing a zip-up vest that was a little too short, a white bandanna around his head to hold back his short, greasy blond hair, and no shoes, staggered into the center of the amphitheater to dance. He clearly did not have what most people would consider a respectable home (aka - he probably slept on stoops and under bridges) and he was definitely either under the influence of a controlled substance or had frequented such substances to such a degree that he could no longer function in a "normal" way, but he was having the time of his life.
Not too long after he started dancing, a shorter, rotund fella in raggedy camo shorts also staggered into the amphitheater and began dancing. He had long, gray hair pulled back in a ponytail and he was wearing dress shoes that didn't quite match his outfit. He danced for a while and then went and sat with the other man (who was sitting with a dirty woman who was nothing remarkable) on one of the steps. As they sat, the skinny guy began to brush round-guy's hair. I'll be damned if it wasn't one of the cuter things I've ever seen. Sure, they were dirty, drug-addict hobos, but come on - a man brushing his friend's nasty hair? That's cute.
Now, I'll admit that the first time the skinny man came out and started dancing, I was uncomfortable and wished he would stop. I told myself it was second-hand embarassment, but really it was a mixture of that and a kind of disgust that he would showcase himself like that in front of all these nice people. But then, after the hairbrushing event, as they continued to get up at random intervals and dance, I realized that they had just as much of a right to be there as anyone else. They weren't panhandling; they weren't trying to steal from anyone; hell, the only time they even touched anyone else was when the skinny man tried to shake an old woman's hand to wish her a happy birthday.
During one of the breaks, the dirty hobo woman walked over to a woman who was sitting in front of us with her infant and tried to talk to the woman about her child. She wagged her finger in the baby's face and cooed just like any friendly person. While watching this, the woman sitting next to me leaned over and whispered, "No way in hell I'd ever let her touch my child." I smiled awkwardly, but the comment made me sad. These were people who were just trying to have fun; after all, they probably don't have the opportunity to hear music frequently at all, let alone live music. Just because they are less fortunate than the rest of us doesn't deny them the right to gather peacefully, watch a free show, and dance and sing along when they feel fit.
After the barbershop quartet, it seemed time for the two men to leave. As they walked off, it was like something out of a cartoon - a tall, skinny, short-haired man in barefeet tottering next to a short, round man with long hair and dress shoes. It couldn't have been better if it were fiction. I'm glad they were there and that they had a good time. They certainly enhanced my Inner Harbor experience.
