I walked out the door at 5:30 this morning for a run and noticed a man laying in the neighbor’s front yard across the street. He’s apparently passed out, and I immediately cringe at the thought of what he’s laying in (they have two boxers…big ones…and this is a small yard). I stand there facing a moral dilemma wondering if I should see if he’s alive, call the cops or both. As I was crossing the street, the patrol car showed up and the officer roused the sleeping drunk.

I guess this is to be expected when you live by the Purple Shamrock.