There is a crazy old guy in our neighborhood who can be seen in tight spandex clothing of garish colors, a wide-brimmed hat adorned with the same material as his one-piece suit, and a knapsack with a huge koala bear sticking out over his shoulders. Trim and gray, looking a bit like a Hollywood actor from the Forties or Fifties, the fellow must be in his late sixties. He never looks at anyone, but just strolls about displaying his outlandish kit. For the Notting Hill carnival, he goes a few steps farther. Yesterday, at the first day of the Carnival, I saw him in a leopard spandex suit pushing two koalas in an expensive pram. The pram was silver in color and seemed to be completely new. He was oblivious to the crowd that cheered him in true appreciation. I saw him today again wearing a pink day-glow suit and pushing his pram. He would not wear the same outfit on both days of the Carnival. Once again, he paid no attention to the cheering crowd. His appears to be a serious business—very much like my writing, I suppose.