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No Matter How Cute They Are….They Have Foibles
It’s a big, old, mess of a city but I love it
When I walked out to go to the subway at seven this morning, the local drug emporium was open for business. It consisted of two (unmasked) older guys and a stream of jittery, belligerent customers. I ignored them. They ignored me. Kind of a mutually twisted version of “live and let live”.
The daily Covid death rates in the city have been down to three digits for a week now and that’s a relief. Ok, yes, the Times warns daily that the threat of infection is “very high” but, hey, that is down from the “extremely high” of last week. It is such good news to my neighbors that many are now not bothering with masks at all.
And just to prove the whole damned city has lost its collective mind: Andrew Yang is polling high to win the mayoral primary in June.
Nothing against young Mr. Yang. I’m sure he’s a great guy and certainly seems to be a good provider (selfishly enough, I have to say I like his UBI plans even though I can’t see how it could ever be administered in this madhouse of a city). But the guy hasn’t ever held public office and admits that he’s never even bothered voting in any previous mayoral elections in the city he thinks he wants to govern. He should be more careful. He just might get his wish and then he’s…
