Waiting for the Vermonter at Union Station in Washington, D.C. early Sunday morning, April 23, my seven-year-old daughter Annika and I chat up a couple from Greenfield, Mass.
Annika and I had just taken our second Uber ride ever to get to the station, used the restroom where many of the stalls were being occupied longterm by homeless women, and stocked up on snacks at the convenience mart.
The couple, both teachers, have, like us, made the pilgrimage to D.C. to attend the March for Science. All of us are bleary-eyed from the early awakening, but also feisty; perhaps this is a protester's hangover.
We share our favorite signs and give thanks to one another for the various efforts made to participate. They contemplate what will be on their signs for the upcoming Climate Change March on April 29; they will be attending in Greenfield. We all agree that protesting, rallying, and marching could easily become a full-time job.
I spent a chunk of my day recently recounting ballots in a disputed Vermont primary election for governor, the culmination of an interesting conflict in the Progressive Party primary in which the party chairperson and designated candidate listed on the ballot (Martha Abbott), initially won by a single vote...