It's 4 a.m. and a decrepit old coot in a flannel shirt and pajama pants sits outside a motel room on the outskirts of Tucumcari, New Mexico. He has been doing the same thing every night for the past 10 years, sitting silently with legs crossed drinking beer, nibbling cheese and staring into space in the wee morning hours.And this senile stoic continues to drink, nibble and stare, his silent vigil interrupted by a brief trip to the bathroom. He has lived alone since his wife of 49 years passed away in 1998 and his only son(who did not come to the funeral)  is a lawyer with a wife and two children living somewhere in Tennessee.

And what will he do tonight? Exactly what he did last night and the night before; drink, nibble and stare while awaiting the crack of dawn. As the sun rises higher and higher, he musters just enough strength from the depths of his decrepitude to lift a wobbly hand and begin sucking the rapidly melting cheese from between his fingers.