One of my favorite Sesame Street characters was "Hoots", the raggedy beatnik owl that lived in the alley and tinkered around on his saxophone. He had that slightly raspy voice and went from glazed over looks to wide eyed outbursts at the drop of a hat. In later years I liked to think Hoots puffed on the reefer as much as his saxophone.
This morning on my bus ride down to the office I was seated across the aisle from Hoots in human form. Slightly raggedy sporting a white goatee and clutching a case for a Selmer Saxophone. 20 minutes into the ride he reaches into the case pulls a dime bag and proceeds to roll a fat pouch. I thought for sure he was planning to spark it up right there on the bus, but he seemed content to massage it between his fingers like cat nip. I was happy to share a ride with Hoots, hopefully tomorrow the Count will show up and keep track of the number of cars we pass.
