First of the Month : A website of the radical imagination. Sumptuously renovated, that is, in every respect but one: the restroom is tiny, jammed, totally unequipped to accommodate the constant flow of visitors.
Clearly the woman my age standing a few feet away is in a similar situation. We fall instantly into one of those senior women exchanges that need no introduction, no explanation, involving head shakes, eye rolls and perfect connection. Is this nuts? They go to all this trouble and then this is the best—??? Can you believe it?
It just goes to show… B. I am walking down a street in Washington DC when I come upon a crowd of young people, standing, sitting, congregating. An air of sharp expectancy is in the air; for a second I am shot back to the protest movements of my youth. Then I realize: this is no protest.
They are simply waiting for an Apple store to open so they can buy the newest technological toy. I back up, and find myself standing next to a woman my age whose expression reflects my own almost exactly; we immediately start talking. This, this is what brings them out these days? After all the civil rights marches, the anti-war demonstrations, this is the sort of event that galvanizes them?
We shake our heads, in perfect harmony. I am riding on the subway when two young teenage boys burst into the car, bristling with energy, laughing, swearing, thrilled at the possibility they could be seen as threatening.
