Sunday, 06 October 2002 | Protest

I'm bad at guessing quantities, so I have no idea how many people were in Central Park today, and since I almost never watch TV, I don't know if anyone else knows either. Thousands, certainly; thousands of other frustrated people who make me wonder about the validity of the polls that claim the majority of us want war. I haven't met any. I have trouble understanding the pro-war argument.

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As of last night, I am again carless, which means I no longer have to (one) remember where I parked, (two) remember whether that side of the road is scheduled to be cleaned the next day, (three) remember to move the car before I'm lying in bed, (four) drive around the neighborhood making figure eights, (five) wonder why there's a parking space (thinking that if it's free, something must be wrong with it), (six) debate whether I should tell the 300-pound man that I wish he wouldn't sit on the hood of my car, (seven) clean off the egg yolk and shell smeared on top of Ingo's car, or (eight) worry about getting parking tickets, which I was told are now $105 in Manhattan. I am going to miss it a little.