A Professional's Guide to Catching Pigeons

Before beginning the elaborate steps to pigeon catching, I must first introduce my professional:

I heard about Booger long before I ever met him. Students would come back from their scavenger hunts on the streets of downtown Nashville talking about the friendly homeless man that led them around the city. They said he introduced himself as "Booger," and rarely took any money or food they offered him. He seemed extremely partial to the females in the group and quickly swore them into his club making them official "Booger-ettes" with an oath that made very little sense but was never altered.

I knew I had to meet Booger myself. So, one uneventful day, I headed down to the riverfront on Historic 2nd Avenue with one of the groups I was leading around. Booger was a short, grey bearded man who wore a constant smile, despite his lack of teeth, and a tie-dyed t-shirt which he sported every time I visited after that. He took my hand and asked me if I knew why he was called Booger, followed by a high pitched giggle.

"No," I answered, more than slightly curious.

"Check your hand," he replied giggling some more.

I was then sworn in as a Booger-ette and asked to sign his club notebook. I was utterly amazed at all the signatures. He had obviously been at this for a while.

In later visits, I learned he had been living on those streets for at least fifteen years. Everyone know him. The policemen, shop owners, and carriage drivers all called him by name. None of them thought it was odd for a couple of girls to be sitting there, at the end of the busiest tourist street in Nashville, talking with a toothless, homeless man. The tourists, however, found it very odd. They didn't even attempt to hide their persistent gawking. I was sad for them. They were missing out on meeting one of Nashville's more colorful occupants. One man I know I will never forget because I am, and ever remain, a faithful member of the Booger family.

And now for catching pigeons: