WWSD--What Would Seattlest Do?

It was a dark and stormy night on Capitol Hill, and we were looking for a Mr. G. Roe.
We share a last name with this G. Roe fellow, and last year, when an apparent Christmas card for him showed up in our mailbox, we had every intention of walking it the block or so away, to "302 Fourteenth Avenue East." Somehow it never happened.

We moved to Queen Anne this year, and Mr. G's English friends sent another card--no return address--which was forwarded to us, despite the fact that we never lived at that Capitol Hill address in the first place, and we have never been a Mister.

So there we were, in the dark, with a damp air mail envelope and the hope that for once we could be the change, pay it forward, WWJD?, whatever.

Unfortunately, 302 Fourteenth Avenue East doesn't exist, and there's no G. Roe in the phone book.

If it is better to give than to receive, we got a lot more out of walking around in the rain trying to find the guy than he ever would've gotten from the card.

But still. Post-holiday melancholy makes one imagine Mr. G. Roe is some poor elderly gentleman, a widower probably, who believes his friends or relatives in England forgot him this Christmas, and last year, too.

You're not forgotten, Mr. G. Roe. You're just too darn hard to find.