There's a place I think of often, where we're still twenty-three in Boston
I dreamed twice that it was snowing too hard for me to make it out to Roxbury for the March for Our Lives, but I am awake now and it merely looks chilly and overcast. I can walk in that. So, I hope, will many other people. To buses.
[edit] I marched with
gaudior and Fox and we picked up
choco_frosh along the way. We were surrounded by signs and teens and children and families and drums and the industrial glitter-pink banner of Gays Against Guns, which we wound up marching near for much of the route from Roxbury Crossing to Boston Common. The Globe estimated about 50,000 attendees, but my mother is hearing higher numbers. Perhaps as many as a million in D.C. Fox was not the youngest person we saw at the march, but they were the youngest we saw consistently on foot rather than stroller or baby-sling, often running back and forth along the sidewalks to make friends with dogs or cars. And it did snow, but only around three o'clock when we were safely sitting down in a very crowded Panera on Boylston Street. I am home now and sitting down with cats. A man who looked like Frank Morgan just rang our doorbell by mistake. There were a lot of people in the streets today saying lives are worth more than guns. This was worth doing.
[edit] I marched with

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(wait, it wasn't the Historical Society)
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Thanks for the link! I did wonder.
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Since I am pessimistically sure there will be other marches of this kind, optimistically I think that's an excellent idea and you should do it. As an alumna of a university which once memorably gave nine-foot bronze Louis D. Brandeis a pumpkin head for Halloween, I am in favor of treating statues like living art.
(I still want to make him a golem. I need to get permission first.)
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I asked the rabbi and he said the dirt was fine and correct. Don't think I didn't. November 9 I asked him.