Years ago, when I was a poor artist trying to sell my paintings in local galleries, I lived in the heart of a city. The rent for my apartment was really cheap because it was in the middle of one of the busiest neighborhoods in town. People who visited me used to ask me how I could sleep. "Doesn't the sound of the traffic bother you? How can you get used to so much noise?" You see, there were also rows and rows of shops and bars playing loud music day and night and my apartment was above a really loud and noisy one. But I found it all fascinating. If I were ever short of cash and couldn't afford to do anything much, which in those days was usually the case, I could always go outside and take a look around. You see, there wee always a great number of tourists visiting the shops, so I could always find someone interesting to talk with. And Joe, the owner of the bar below me, could always give me a little money to survive on in exchange for doing a few odd jobs for him. At the time, I suppose, I thought I was poor. Sometimes, we don't realize how fortunate we are, do we?