I know I must be getting old, I seem to take current events with a shrug and a oh well. Hazel, the woman I live with, is another matter all together. She still has some fire that can generate anger when certain things happen that seem stupid to her. For instance, the latest brouhaha taking place in NYC concerning our right to drink as much sugared soda as we want. Hazel believes vehemently that we have the right to guzzle it until it gushes out of our ears if we so wish. I do too actually, but about all I can generate in the way of anger is not much. I can generate a smile over the stupidity of it all, but not enough to think of marching or picketing the mayors house. This cover of the New Yorker by Owen Smith is great. It took me a moment to to get it, but it's great.