Issue 68, Winter 1976
Not until I learned how to transform my childhood dreams into tomorrow’s crust of bread did I become truly successful at begging. Now I’m able to pick and choose, and there are only a few select areas I’ll work. Of primary importance is the presence of an electrical outlet. After finding one there’s at least a half hour of preparation behind the dilapidated card-board screen I carry with me everywhere. Then, the last few touches: setting the trains properly down on the tracks and plugging the cord into the wall socket which, with my head on the ground, is only a foot or so away. Finally, I kick away (though gently) the cardboard facade with a shout of ALL ABOARD!, revealing myself as the living landscape over which my H.O. trains run.