There was a man who called himself Stupid. I saw him every time I went to the 5th Street Public Market when I was a kid growing up in Eugene, Oregon. He always sat at the (mostly) same table, drinking coffee, and working on his books - collections of wisdom. I’ve often wished I still had one of his books. Stupid would have hated what became of the market.

My friend Chris was once at the market with his friend and child. The kid asked him why his name was Stupid. His reply was “I used to know a big fat guy and everyone called him Tiny.”

A Stupid biography and a Stupid book

Filed under: Personal

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