Mashed Potato Makeover

A severe snowstorm welcomed spring to New York City in 1967. Mike and I were students at a small college in Maryland and were doing volunteer work in the Big Apple over spring break. The weather prohibited us from completing our assigned tasks so we got on a subway and headed to Times Square. The staff of the Merv Griffin Show was having trouble filling the seats in the theater because of the storm and were on the street corner handing out free tickets for a live performance. This was a real adventure for a small town/country boy like me so Mike and I took advantage of the offer.

After the performance we walked down Broadway to a steakhouse located close to 44th and Broadway. I acted like a typical tourist noticing the variety of people, the height of the buildings, and the general bustle of the New York reality.

Reality really set in when we were finally seated and eating in the small restaurant. Near us at a different table was an obviously inebriated man with filthy clothes and dirty, unshaven face. I could not help but stare at this individual talking to his food, which I guessed someone else paid for, until his face dropped onto the plate into the mashed potatoes. I was shocked at the manner the waiters escorted him to the door and onto the street, mashed potatoes dropping from his scruffy chin as he continued to mumble. I was even more shocked that Mike and I seemed to be the only people in the restaurant who even saw what was happening. We were later told by our host family that most New Yorkers had become desensitized to such events.

I don’t know if anyone could have helped the disheveled man. It may have been easier just to ignore him. My greatest concern is the ease at which we all become desensitized to the struggles and needs of other people. Our world could become a better place if we noticed the needs of others and as opportunity presented itself, did good to all.