Quick post, gotta catch my bus. On the road to a DC protest again. I’ve been doing this since ’61 or ’62, when my lefty folks took us tadpoles to school-integration picket lines in NYC. When Obama was elected the first time I thought we’d entered a new era in the US. And lo, we had, but not the one I thought. So here we are again. I’m taking in my pocket the names of friends and family, deceased, disabled, or for some other reason unable to march today. Proud of them, of the friends of my radical youth who will be there, the friends of my (ahem) middle age who are coming with, and all of you who’re marching in other cities. Remember this next four years will be a marathon, not a sprint. And remember Emma Goldman: “If I can’t dance to it, it’s not my revolution.” Shoulder to shoulder!