What became of all the strangers who used to crowd these streets so much that it made nearly everyone angry, making this street paradoxically the loneliest mile in the world? In those days, I made a good living as a "private eye". Now the street is nearly deserted. I can't make ends meet. Worse, my daughter can't make her living either. There isn't a John in sight. And I'm not as fit as I used to be. I still have the muscles, but no hair to cushion my head, and anyone who does much reading knows that a detective gets clobbered about once per case. I need that cushioning. Wait. Here comes someone now. Rats! It's a traffic cop, and I'm parked right on this fire hydrant! The message is clear, move on.