Sam sat there working on his accordion. Honk honk, vroom vroom. He heard the traffic louder than his music. There are musicians who go where there are attractions and people will throw a dollar in their bucket. A man whistled from his window and called out, "Hey baby. Slow down." He ran downstairs to stop her, fell and broke his leg. And Sam played on, wanting to be noticed. He's starving. The drivers see him, but they go on by. He feels neglected in the middle of downtown. It was Spring 1984, warm enough for him to get out and do what he enjoys doing. A passerby dropped a dollar in his bucket. Soon a hundred of his friends came and hummed a chorus and everybody stopped to listen. An audience was nice but he longed for a home.