Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home. I doubt there’s a marketing or psychology student in America today that did not have Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs theory drilled home.

It holds that certain physiological needs like oxygen, food and water are paramount in a person’s existence, which tends to override most other needs. Thus, while we can live without a spouse, a car or a body part, we cannot survive without food and water.

Last month when the Pacific Northwest was blanketed by snow, I counted the many blessings I had somewhat taken for granted: a roof over my head, a warm bed to lay my head, hot water to take showers, food inside the cupboard, and the list goes on.

I thought about the many homeless men and women who were not as fortunate — breathing human beings whose daily lives mirror one inconvenience after the next. I then wondered how Maslow would have factored outdoor security now that homelessness has skyrocketed since he wrote his celebrated work nearly 70 years ago.

A central place to lay one’s head at the end of day is crucial to a human’s existence. Even hunter-gatherer people sought relief with that occasional camping spot that is called home, however temporary.

Frankly, I don’t know how I would have survived without a roof over my head for even a week. So I doff my hat to those hardy folk who are able to weather the storms of homelessness.

I make it a point of duty to look beyond the scourge of homelessness and see people for who they are when I make eye contact with them. One key point I tend to remember is that they are still human beings.

Never would I make sweeping judgment about people in this predicament, as each individual has his own story. One such person that has made my acquaintance for nearly two years now is the erudite Bruce Glover.

Glover was preparing for a send-off of sorts recently on the eve of his leaving the street for good. For 33 years, he has had full military benefits without realizing that windfall.

Having served in both the Army and Navy in his youth, he was given two honorable discharges. AWOL for 180 days, he felt that there was no way a crime like that could be expunged and redeem him as a deserving veteran.

Well, his bags are packed and it’s like he’s on his way to Club Med. He grinned ear to ear talking about his entering the tony American Lake VA Hospital in Tacoma. First, he must undergo a rigorous 90-day drug detox program; he cannot leave the compound for that duration.

The bookworm and computer-savvy man, who just finished reading an 842-page book about Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, is a stickler for fairness. He’s upset that Einstein’s wife, who contributed to about half the research, did not get credit for her work.

Recently his laptop got stolen, and he felt as though he suffered no loss. For all the things that he had purloined over the years, he said that karma was definitely at work in that situation.

Spending 40 of his 52 years doing all kinds of drugs, he said that he doesn’t seek sympathy. “Don’t pity me; pity the babies who begged, ‘please, care about me,’” he said.

Glover has been an ardent reader of this column, based on his reciting word for word some of my articles. He let me know when I was slacking off in not writing more frequently.

I will miss your readership, Glover. But you will be in a much better place. With a clear mind devoid of alcohol or drugs, you might just upstage Maslow and Einstein with your groundbreaking theory.

In the meantime, I plan to sip a tall latte in honor of your finding home sweet home at last after all these years.