The Boys Of Summer.

I slid through a pile of something unspeakable on the sidewalk across from the Orpheum this morning. And as I looked down upon a foul-smelling mix of partially digested soup kitchen ziti and broken whiskey bottle glass, a realization hit me like the scent of stomach acid in August - they're baaaaaack.

Those of you who've been reading Pye In The Face for a while know where I stand on the homeless. Have a look at those two links if you need a refresher or another reason to dislike me. I honestly feel bad for people who've lost their way and have ended up living rough due to mental illness or addiction. But the line has to be drawn somewhere. Boston has, what seems to me, a disproportionate number of vagrants, drunks and hobos. And to make it worse, a good number of them are super-aggressive, foul-mouthed and even violent.

I traverse the majority of downtown twice every single day on my way to and from work. So before you bite my head off for being cold-hearted, ask yourself if you've got a good working knowledge of our local rabble. And imagine what tourists, senior citizens, children, etc. are exposed to when they come to visit this great historic city. Walking through the Common in another couple of weeks will make Calcutta look like Boca Raton.