I rode my bike down to the Treme tonight for a party at M. & M.’s place. I went ready to dance, and dance I did. I had such a good time, seeing friends I’ve not seen in a while, an old student or two, colleagues. It was a delightfully motley crew. I took St. Charles for my ride home, rather than Baronne, like I usually do. I felt emboldened by the evening, willing to take on the streetcar track maze that is Lee Circle. I passed a woman lying in a doorway, sleeping, about halfway through the CBD. Two doors down is this HOTEL, boarded up, covered with graffiti. And there’s this woman just down the street a ways who needs a place to sleep. I wished I could open up this hotel, closed for I don’t know why, and fix it up so people could stay there. I know solutions are more complicated than this, but I don’t know why they can’t just fix up the hotel and open it up for people who need a place to stay. I don’t know. As I rode home from my party, my glasses fogged up from the thick humidity, I was reminded yet again how much your eyes determine what can be seen and how limited our collective imaginations seem to be when thinking through the layers of social problems indicated by this one individual scene.