"Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have give I thee: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and take this job application." Anyone who's known me for long knows that my middle name is "Mr. Compassion." And yet, even one such as I has to do some pretty deep fracking to suck up a font of sympathy for some of the more visible "homeless" folks in Fairbanks. One of the "regulars" in front of one of our local malls has worn a divot in the asphalt through his incessant standing, soliciting sympathy from departing shoppers, informing us by his semi-literate signage that he is in need of a home for him and his little darlings. For some reason, I wasn't too well received when I handed the feller a job application for an ice cream parlor not a bowling ball's lob from his pity divot. I don't get it...but I'm sort of naive in such matters, I suppose. One would think he would have done cartwheels of joy at the idea of a job prospect. But that's just me. I guess I should wax Biblical or something. "For even when we were with you, this we commanded you, that if any would not work, neither should he eat." That should be waxy enough. It's not like there's not enough work to go around in Fairbanks. Everyone I know who has a small business.....(Hmm...I guess that's just about everyone I know)....is DESPERATE for good help...and more than willing to apprentice anyone willing to get up out of one's pity divot. Stay tuned for more compassionate wisdom.