Standing Up

I went to the Old People's Protest outside Congressman Ciscomani's office on Saturday.  

That's not what it's called in the weekly emails I receive,  reminding me of the event, any specific theme to reflect on our signs, and the parking suggestions.   I usually parked in the lot for my Congressman's office.  But over the few weeks since I've been there,  a fence has gone up.  The email noted that a locally owned toy store,  Mildred and Dildred, supported our efforts and invited us to park behind their nearby store. 

So, I did, aided by the handy dandy sign at the curb.  If you look at the upper left corner, you can catch a glimpse of a fellow sign waver.  I drove around back, grabbed my sign and my pinwheel, and joined the throng.

Can I call 75 75 year olds a throng?  Waxing and waning over a two hour window, the organizers call it 75 strong every week.  Some are older, some are younger, but no one is as old as we were when we did this 50 years ago.  Where are they?

That last part was a major topic of conversation along the street corner.  The internet?  Not teaching civics in high school? A generation that's glued to their phones and eschews making eye contact with the real world?  We reached no consensus other than agreeing that we, ourselves, standing at a busy intersection, were doing our part.

There was a lady in a blow up American flag costume.  There were huge American flags and one Ukrainian flag.  There were signs reminding drivers that their President is a pedophile, a liar, a rapist, a criminal, and a dirtbag.  Draft Barron first was a popular meme.  

And then a gentleman of a certain age offered me one of these Gas Station Stickers.  

I am to place it, subtly, on the pump, with his finger pointing to the price per gallon.

I think I'm going to have to skip Costco next week and stop in for a few gallons at a QuickStop.