You know those days that everyone thinks are travel nightmares but are actually a breeze? Like when the only flight you can get out of town is on Thanksgiving morning, and there are no lines anywhere and 10 people on the plane? Well, to the list that includes Christmas Eve and July 4th, it’s time to add the Weekend Before The Government Turns Your Town Into The Global Epicenter of Rancorous Political Activism.
As soon as we learned that Union Square would be a major gathering point for waves of splenetic humanity, we decided that Mama and Robert should fly the coop. We left for the airport yesterday at 4 a.m., anticipating hordes of New Yorkers fleeing town like ducks from a gunshot. Imagine my surprise when, a half hour later, my wife and son had cleared security and I was on the M60 headed back to Manhattan.
There just isn’t anyone around. The smart ones skedaddled long ago, and the only civilians left are 1) protestors, 2) delegates, and 3) dopes like me who are irresistibly curious about what will happen when 1) and 2) collide. And I’m not worried about the security. The city is a fortress, under constant surveillance by beat cops and helicopters. We even have the Fuji blimp on loan, so if anything happens, it can roar off in low-speed pursuit.
Apart from a few flare-ups (and record sales of those plastic flexi-cuffs), we’re gonna be fine. If I’m wrong, at least Robert will be halfway across the country, sneaking fistfuls of Grandpa’s birthday cake.