You and me both, bubba. Sort of reminds me of a time about 8 or 10 years ago--I'd just moved into my new studio, which was glorious, huge and generally wonderful, with one drawback. While the preoperty had been empty, the parking lot had turned into a veritable Gomorrah. People'd go there to fight, shoot up, do crack deals, etc. There was a very sweet, very troubled homeless guy that I built a little sort of hot water shower thing for. One night I heard some shouting outside, looked out the window, and saw three guys beating the crap out of him. I'd just happened to be watching "The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean", in which a very morally suspect Paul Newman appoints himself "Law, West of the Pecos" I decided to follow his lead, grabbed a shotgun, went outside, racked a shell noisily into the chamber and said "THIS STOPS NOW! TELL YOUR FRIENDS!" They scattered like the cowardly little rabbits they were, and my parking lot came to be an oasis of peace in the tawdry beach community. I gave "the Wizard" (the homeless fella) a cup of tea and some career guidance and that was that. He became the alley watchdog--fearless, loyal, and honest. I let him rent parking spaces on weekends, and I think he ultimately got his shit together, as he came by one day, all clean and shiny, and said he was going back east to stay with his daughter while he got some kind of computer degree. Hope it worked out for him. Of course, that was terribly wrong and illegal, what I did, and I deeply regret violating any state, county, or metropolitan guidelines.