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Some mornings Rosie and I play in the river.  Actually, Rosie plays in the river and I must, must, must, RIGHT NOW, throw her another stick.  She slips into the river, slides down the current and catches the stick.

Rosie and stick

One recent morning, we happened upon a man in swimming trunks.  He was adjusting the trunks, like men do, and was dripping wet.  Having grown up around a lot of people in swimming trunks, his swim trunk behavior didn't mean anything to me.  I only noticed him because he was in the way of a really good stick.

Then I heard it.

A woman, standing on top of a grassy hill, was screaming at the swimming trunks guy:

"You stupid homeless guy, put some g** d*** cloths on."

I look up at the woman. What?? She's bent over screaming while her friends are laughing.
She continues:

"You can't just take a bath where ever you please, you f***ing, blah, blah, so and so, blah."

I look back at the man and he's taken off his swimming trunks, hung them on the great stick and is dancing around like a crazy person.  I catch his eye.  He winks, shrugs and dives into the river.

We decided to go down the river to play.