When Chess Becomes Your Life You'll Have No lIfe

In #NYC on 14th street & Union square there are a cluster of chess players who are there day & night winter summer spring & fall. They give new meaning to Vivaldi's Four Seasons. They are all bums in appearance & demeanor. Most homeless & raggedy dudes. Yet chess is their life & yet to an impartial observer one can conclude they have no life worth living. Bet your bullock cart they are strong players as I've found out playing them a game or two for a few bucks. But showering & clipping their nails  cutting their hair & grooming is too time consuming for them. They only have time for chess it appears. They sell cigarettes for $1.00 each to desperate smokers. They read Nimzovitch's My System & Capablanca's My Chess Career. Though indigent many own subscriptions to Chess LIfe Magazine.  They get there early in the morning & stay until late at night. Hustling loose dollars from chess players that are foolish enough to play them. I suppose it's debateable what constitutes a life worth living. Even the most miserable of people hold life dear in hope of better times. The same faces have been living the way I've just described for years at #UnionSquare. They've become part of the backdrop like the birds & trees. The cops never mess with them. Actually it's certainly chess itself that gives meaning to these guy's lives. How about you? Do you have a life outside of chess or is chess the center mantelpiece of your existence? Answer me! Just a Monday morning essay for my friends @chess.com.