Yesterday, while throwing a farewell party at The Old Pointe Tavern on Mass Avenue in Indy for a colleague who is moving on, I spotted this lonely old man in ragged clothes, alone at the bar. I was reminded of a song by Graham Nash that continues to swirl around in my head titled "I Used to be a King". I watched this man gaze steadily through the window while slowly twisting his glass of gin and making little concentric circles of sweat on the bar counter. I've seen this scene so many times that it made me stop and think how narrow the line is between being a King and being alone and unknown. I always think "that could have been me" or "that could be me". I think we have such confidence in ourselves that we fail to realize how close we sometimes walk to the precipice. He used to be a King.