Robin and I recently took a trip to the west coast to visit my daughter and her family who live in Salem, Oregon. Before we went there we did a little sightseeing in San 
Francisco and Sacramento. We had a wonderful time, both sightseeing and visiting. There were a couple out of the ordinary encounters that occurred.
San Francisco like most large cities has a lot of homeless folks. Two individuals stand out in my memory although I do not believe the second to have been homeless. The first was a very dirty white man of indeterminate age. His clothes were dirtier than his body and they seemed to be disintegrating on him as he approached. He reminded me of an actor I once saw at Medieval Fair playing the part of the village mad man. This fellow in San Francisco was screaming at the top of his lungs in language I assume was English, but it was not very intelligible. He was also gesticulating wildly. He alarmed me somewhat, and I moved myself and Robin aside.
The second individual was a black man around 40 years of age. He was dressed in a nice suit sans tie. He was nicely barbered and appeared very clean. What caught our attention was that he was kicking what looked like an expensive pair of shoes down the sidewalk. Not like a boy kicks a can, but with wild angry kicks. When he neared we realized that he was ranting (presumably at the shoes) in French. This man did not alarm me, but again I thought it better to step aside.
I think I understand the first man’s story. I am still wondering about the second man.
The second incidence happened while we were checking into the hotel in Sacramento. After the front desk activity Robin had gone up to the room and I went back out to the parking garage to get the rest of the luggage. I noticed a man in late his 60s or early 70s getting luggage out of a 700 series BMW. I happened to see the license plate that read, “ICE CRM”. I assumed this to be vanity plate lingo for Ice Cream.
We hit the hotel elevator simultaneously so I asked, “Did ice cream pay for that Beamer?”
He replied, “Yes it did. I used to have the Ben and Jerry distributorship for Canada. Before that I had the Häagen-Dazs distributorship up there.”
To which all I could reply was, “I guess ice cream really did pay for that car.” I then proceeded to ramble nonsensically about how I drove an ice cream truck one summer while in college.