Does This Look Like the Face of a 'Bama Man Found Sleeping in a Press Box in a Pile of Chicken Wings, Candy and Meth?

Source - There’s being down and out at the game of life and then there’s being caught sleeping in a press box surrounded by piles of chicken wings, chips, candy and METH! That’s exactly how the Pleasant Grove, Alabama Police Department found 37-year-old Matthew Williamson after he went on a meth’d up bender.

“The Pleasant Grove Department of Public Safety says 37-year-old Matthew Williamson was charged September 17th with Unlawful Breaking and Entering a Vehicle and Theft of Property,” ABC 33/40 reported. “He was transported to the Jefferson County Jail. According to a news release, less than two hours after Williamson made bond he stole a car in Hueytown and hid it in Pleasant Grove. On September 22 there was a report of an unknown person breaking into the concession stand at the Pleasant Grove Athletic Complex.”

For openers, as is usually the case in one of these posts, the question is rhetorical and the answer is obvious. If you saw Matthew Williamson's photo - most likely in a book of mug shots while you're at the police station filing a report about the guy you found running out of your garage while you pulled in the driveway, as opposed to Facebook or Instagram - you're first reaction would be, "I bet that passes out in a pile of drugs and snack treats in a ballfield once in a while."

It's a long story, but when I was in college I got one-day press passes to Fenway for my buddy Kenny and me. We lasted about an inning and a half in there because the miserable, ink-stained wretches covering the team were so dreary and depressing it took all the fun out of it. They stared daggers at us any time we dared whisper to each other and kept sending the press secretary over to check our credentials. Worse, they looked like the pale, sullen zombies you'd see standing by the finish line at a greyhound racetrack. Williamson would've fit right in. 

But my main reaction to this story is an idea I've been working on for some time now. It's about how, in a weird way, I admire the people who not only survive crippling drug addictions, they thrive. They're like the modern day Hoboes. Those colorful rogues from yesteryear, who rode the rails and lived by their wits and someone made it through even the worst economic times. Those free spirits who got by on moonshine and cans of beans cooked over an open fire and told each other stories of life on the road. Williamson gets by on concession food and hits of Satan's Candy. It's all just how you look at it. 

I guess what I admire about it is the resourcefulness. If you put me in the middle of say, midtown Manhattan and told me I have 24 hours to get high, I'd have no idea where to begin. You'd come back the next day and I'd be wandering the streets, sober as Tim Tebow. Hell, I wouldn't know where to score meth in the town I've been living in for 20 years. But I bet if you took Matthew Williamson and dropped him by parachute into any city or town in America, within hours he'd be high as a lab rat. And with a full belly. Imagine the effort it takes to not only break into the Pleasant Grove Athletic Complex, but to find the wings, fire up the fryolater and made yourself a meal to go with your meth. Yes, it's awful. He's got a serious substance abuse problem and needs major help, immediately. But he still managed to steal a car, pull off a breaking and entering, and cook up a nice dinner for himself. How many of us could do the same? 

Now clean up your act, Matthew. And start using those powers of yours for good.