This post is not a recrimination of where I grew up — what outsiders now dub deep ‘Trump country.’ It is an ode, in its own way.
Yesterday I woke up at 4:30am and sat around in the kitchen waiting for Manny to wake up too so I’d have someone to talk to.
I absentmindedly ran a red light on my way to work some hours later. I don’t know what happened — I just glided right through it without stopping. Thank God no one got hurt.
Then I graded papers at my desk mechanically for a few hours and somehow managed to teach a 2.5 hour class. Afterward, I drove around the historic district for fifteen minutes looking for parking so I could pop out and mail a package — only to realize I’d forgotten the package at home that morning.
Later, I drove halfway home, after nightfall, without my headlights on.…