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From Colorado: Edith Lynn Beer writes about an entertainment lawyer Steve Replin, who is bullish about protecting the rights of creatives ranging from writers to artists. 

The dead man splayed on the sidewalk looks ready to be drawn and quartered like an angus cow. Cops are called to pick him up before his corpse starts to stink. One couple is huddled together on the ground in front of a doorway.  The woman lies on the top of the man and sticks a hypodermic needle into his lip. A young black boy, curled into fetal position, is passed-out under a sleeping bag. His baseball cap has fallen off his head and while he appears to be asleep, there is no way to tell if he’s dead, unless you want to touch him and no one wants to do that. Outside the parking garage, spoons, needles and matches are left on the ground like the remnants of a messy supper.  And this is the wealthy part of town.