remembering 911

remembering with white stone, blue light and boutiques of opulent luxury. 

                                                                                                               

Violence in subways

       

I remember when all professional men carried attaché cases. I was so impressed. I'd see them and think, "Wow, these guys must be carrying important documents... corporate secrets... the  launch of a new soap campaign!" In the subways they were reading a newspaper. Trump was promoting  decent buildings endangering the stripped bass.

So when I finally got a raise, I bought one, pressed carton. I felt so powerful. I quickly discovered it was the perfect size... for a tuna sandwich. But I used to get pizza at lunch.

   The attaché case is extinct. Now, we're a more casual America. Everyone has a backpack.   Running shoes, a bottle of water, and... a tuna sandwich. We haven't evolved. But the subways have the same size. More professional women and more immigrants.

The  backpacks freed up   hands to hold  cell phones.   A menace on the subway. The attaché case was civilized; it stayed by your leg. A backpack is a weapon. Every time some tall guy turns around to check the Trump’s messages on X, he smacks me in the face with a bag full of his sweaty gym clothes.

Eco, ecola

 “Social media gives the right to speak to legions of imbeciles who previously only spoke at the bar after a glass of wine, without damaging the community. They were immediately silenced, but now they have the same right to speak as a Nobel Prize winner. It’s the invasion of imbeciles.”