the man in the barrel
My dad, Jim Barker, took this in (probably) the early nineteen-fifties: the man who lived up a pole outside the New Yorker cafe, across the road from the Arboretum. I haven't managed to find any more details at the moment -- Google hasn't come up with anything.
I can still taste the chips from the New Yorker, even though I must have been tiny. Mmmmm!