An elderly man exuding the unmistakable vibe of homelessness sat on a rock facing Coos Bay. Fifty feet away, wind whipped up whitecaps on the water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Elmer and I walked toward his direction on a weekday afternoon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We passed ten feet away from him. He was the spitting image of late stage Greg Allman. He wore cowboy boots, cowboy hat, and a black and red motorcycle jacket. Greg took no notice of me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Music blasted from Greg’s phone. It sounded like a heartbreak country song. I didn’t recognize it. Greg accompanied the tune on a harmonica, but his harmonica was the wrong key and dissonance resulted. That hardly mattered. Greg was blowing the hell out of the harmonica. That’s what mattered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Elmer was baffled by the sound of the harmonica and reared up and down. I felt tempted to stop and ask Greg the name of the song, but refrained. You don’t interrupt a homeless man blowing the hell out of a harmonica while he’s playing along to a heartbreak country song on the edge of Coos Bay and relishing the moment of heartbreak the song obviously represented for him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The husky and I performed our beach shtick. On the return leg, the song was still blasting and Greg still playing along.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Greg nodded to me and stopped playing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat song is that?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He told me and the name no longer sticks. It was a track I’d never heard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We struck up a conversation about harmonicas and I shared my eccentric history with the instrument. He dug the story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHey, I love your dog!\u201d Greg said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe’s a good dude,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThanks for talking to me brother.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I love when homeless people call me brother. Housed people never do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou keep on with your dream brother,\u201d said Greg. \u201cWhatever it was at 15. (My only one was to become a writer.) You start living it today!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI will brother!\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Elmer and I went on our way. Behind us, I heard the sound of a harmonica drifting this way and that on the shifting winds of Coos Bay. What music!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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