I used to ride the CTA blue line into downtown Chicago for work. One of the other commuters who I saw regularly was as guy with a large patchwork hat that he clearly made himself. He also called a folding sign that looked like it was made of thin pieces of plywood. He’d be sitting and reading the newspaper when I got on, but when the train was getting close to down town he’d calmly fold up his paper and start getting himself worked up. By the time we got to Clark and Lake, the big transfer station, he’d be incredibly animated and ranting about God and the devil. He’d sprint off through the crowd the moment the doors opened