In Praise of Normalcy

Protesters in Chicago hold signs as they rally against the fatal police assault of Tyre Nichols in Memphis, on January 27, 2023.

Dear Reader (excluding any of you who confuse the “Champagne of Beers” with the real bubbly stuff),

I haven’t had a good week writing-wise. I didn’t like the Wednesday G-File. I didn’t like my Los Angeles Times column. And while I liked what I tried to write on the bathroom wall AEI, my Sharpie ran out of ink. 

Now it’s Friday, the New Year’s Eve of workdays, and I just got off the Acela and am sitting in my car, smoking a cigar and watching a pigeon carry twigs and twine to what I assume is its nest in some kind of duct above a window in the Union Station garage. 

One of my dad’s favorite questions involved pigeons. When we would go on walks, he’d point to one pigeon among other pigeons. Then he’d ask (little kid) me, “Jonah, do you think that pigeon knows he’s not that other pigeon?” 

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