I saw a man sitting on a bench in Union Square. He was an older, rather distinguished looking gentleman. His clothes looked mismatched, but in a concerted sort of way– the way a professor dresses when he wishes to say: I spend too much time on my mind to worry about my clothes. The man was reading The New York Times. I approached him.
May I take your photograph, I asked.
No, he said. But sit down for a minute, let’s talk.