By Tony Russell

I ran into Howard downtown as I was heading toward the Farmers Market. He was unloading some homemade folding wooden frames from the back of his old pickup. They were seven or eight feet tall, and the tops were covered with black plastic bags. “Can I give you a hand?” I asked. “These don’t look like tomatoes. What are you selling?”

“Hey, thanks Ace,” he said. “And no, they’re not tomatoes and I’m not selling anything. I’m giving information away. Our group is putting up an exhibit on the mall. If you could help carry these over to the fountain area, I’d appreciate it. A couple of trips should do it.” ...

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