He was near a street corner in downtown Beloit, Wisconsin. Trying to capture the attention of anyone in the bustling crowd that had flocked to enjoy the bountiful produce found at the Farmer’s Market, he handled his guitar with the comfort and ease of an old friend.
“Sir, do you mind if we take your picture?”
He strummed a few cords and replied, “Not at all!”
His countenance was aglow with enthusiasm, a zest for life that many of us would envy. As his fingers completed the whimsical harmony, he looked up at me with intensity.
“Young lady, don’t ever let anyone steal your Happy!”