The sky is a flawless blue ceiling but even if it were blazing red, I’d be voting today, New York’s first early voting day.
The voting joint wasn’t jumpin’, but it was moving. People flowed in and out. Every election person I encountered said, “Thank you for voting,” and I said, “Thank you for being here.”
Why are they thanking me? We don’t have weird white men out in the streets wearing scarves over their faces and clutching their gigantic black phalluses to their tubby bellies. We are not the wild west in 1880 or 2022.
We are civilization, we are.
Then I went to Zabar’s and bought a loaf of onion rye, which is so addictive there is reason to fear I might consume the whole loaf by tomorrow’s football game.