An endearing vagabond tries to sell his used wares on a NYC street corner to no avail. Laid out on his blanket is a smattering of "junk" for him to sell. Everything including old books and magazines to jewelry, playing cards, refrigerator magnets, a transistor radio, used 45 records. His pitch is his mantra, Yo, I Got Stuff! Will he make a sale? Will he be told to "move along" by NYC's finest? Or will he just have to contend with having a "really bad day" of no sales and loneliness? And who really cares?
—Eli Minelli EnCarte