I take my grandson, Little Luke, 3.5 years old, on a walk.
Better yet, he takes me on the walk. Not exactly true.
I guide him into the local gallery, Steven Wolf Fine Arts.
We go behind the black curtain into the 'media' room.
Oh, for this story I should mention he is half African-American.
On the wall a terrible fight is going on. A young black man
and a young white man are mixing up their fists inside some store.
It's not immediately clear why they are fighting. A dope deal gone bad?
A robbery? A racist inspired altercation. Not an immediate clue.
Little Luke looks up. "Is this for adults?" Without waiting for an answer
he pushes his way back through the curtain. I follow him on to the street.
It's so lovely, I think, to have innocence be such a force.