The exception proves the rule and one exception is my friend, I’ll call him Rick. (It’s his name.) Rick’s been in DC for almost 30 years, most of that time spent lobbying the Hill and the agencies. In a town where seniority and personal connections are currency, he’s got a pocket full. Pragmatic? Yes. Idealistic? Not exactly. What was once idealism has hardened into something resembling weary cynicism, but the important thing is that his convictions remain unchanged. His ambitions are for his causes, not himself. There is no trace of corruption. Pretty remarkable in this town.

I’m in DC this week and he told me this story Tuesday. I think it illustrates how he’s managed to keep his conscience clear. (Disclosure: what follows is paraphrased. Rick is incapable of the kind of brevity this space demands.)

“So I was up in the Senate offices yesterday afternoon and I was headed over to the Metro at Union Station. A bunch of people were all standing on the corner, waiting for the light to change by the little park north of the Senate.

“I looked across the street and there were these homeless guys hanging out. They had their clothes hanging on the bushes, trying to dry them. They had their possessions stashed in shopping carts. One guy was sitting on a milk crate on the corner opposite from where I was waiting for the light. He’s looking down at the ground. I think maybe he’s asleep.

“I thought, ‘OK, we’re gonna cross the street and he’s gonna hit us up for money. Why wouldn’t he? He’s got everything he owns in the world right there. He even had a little Christmas tree someone probably threw away.

“So the light changes and off we all go like a school of fish. I’m waiting for the pitch when the guy on the milk crate suddenly puts his head up and says in a real loud voice, ‘Hey, how about getting a smile?’

“That was it. No pitch, no ask for money. Here we all are with our briefcases, running from one thing to another and he says, ‘How about a smile?’ So I smiled and he caught my eye and said, ‘Yeah! All right!’

“It made me think. I had completely pre-judged the guy. I’m thinking he’s a panhandler, a homeless guy, someone you never think about except as an annoyance and what does he do? He just asks me for a smile.”

Whatever else may have transpired between Rick and Mr. Milk Crate is none of my business or yours. I’m sure some folks reading this will say, “Well, Milk Crate Guy just had a more sophisticated begging pitch.” They may be right. The moral of the story, I think, is that if we want to remain uncorrupted, we have to keep an eye out for the little events that cross our paths, recall us to our true values and keep us on the course we originally intended to steer.

© Mark Floegel, 2010