Maintenant.
Thank god for iTunes, headphones, volume controls and earplugs as Yours Truly is once again loitering at JFK and my perfect self is hopelessly and helplessly surrounded by pizza gulping, child indulging gum-chomping young families. M'Aidez.

Yesterday.
Had a disconnected lunch with Dorota who is not abreast of any situations in the life of Yours Truly yet remains highly judgmental: not a joy.
Moved along to protest(s) at Union Square and filmed several moments of that special tension that is created when the morass of media, armed militia and protesters circle one another. One false move and the morass is chaos.
Bought a few fab tshirts as well as a set of dress-up Bushie magnets, like paper dolls, only way better.
Had to move along to B&H and that's when things got really interesting.
(The Mess We're In hit iTunes as I am telling You this story, most appropriate as it references helicopters in New York, sung by Thom Yorke on this Polly Jean song. Keep this in mind. Dig.)
Took L to 8th Avenue after being chuted into the Union Square stop, under watchful copful gazes.
At 8th Ave caught the C up to Penn Station.
Tried to get out to street but noted that all was taped and barricaded and guarded and then had to walk two blocks, including down another platform, to get O.U.T.
Once up on the street I saw how the world here had changed. Streets shut off, orange safety cones all about, cops and dopey-looking delegates in spangles and vests and hats and more barricades. Crossing the street I noted I was entering a zone where all were subject to search. A cop with baton was crossing one and all and right up behind him I asked into his left ear if he was our crossing guard. I was followed then for a block by three cops, until I got to B&H.
Escaping B&H I opted for a cab in lieu of the subject to search choice.
Later later later I digvid'd helicopters in the sky as there were many. I noted that the Fuji blimp featured prominently the letters N Y P D.
A real bummer to a fan of the Fuji.
Time to board, read, snooze, deplane.

Deplaned and Delovely Love.