Purveyor of Pep

It's a bitterly cold February morning. I'm on southbound Woodward Avenue in Detroit, just north of Seven Mile Road, when I spy a figure on the side of the road holding a sign and pointing at Westbound Seven Mile traffic. He turns his body 60 degrees--Woodward intersects Seven Mile at an angle--to face northbound Woodward traffic, and then turns again, 120 degrees, to face eastbound Seven Mile traffic. 

The guy's not panhandling. He's just standing and pointing at incoming traffic. He wants people to read his sign. 

I'm about a hundred feet away when he turns to face my direction. He's a young black gentleman. Smiling broadly, he's all bundled up--wool cap, scarf, parka, boots, and mittens--and now he's pointing at me. I read his sign: "I SEE GREATNESS IN YOU!"

Maybe he had a few screws loose. I don't know. This much I can tell you: he made my life a little more beautiful that day.