On a sunny, late winter day, Connie reemerges, taking up a familiar panhandling spot outside Rite-Aid. In late-sixties, rail thin, in long black coat & leather cap, Connie's look is better by far than what normally passes for fashion in dull old Park Slope. Certainly a million times better than the blandly dressed girl I overheard in Union Square yesterday, talking loudly on her phone: "I'm playing a supermodel who just graduated from Harvard!" Connie was in good health & good spirits ("still looking at the younger guys" (pause) "and still getting them!!"). Spring is a heartbeat away.