Mum's the Word

Once upon a time, I genuinely looked forward with great anticipation to voting on Election Day. Calling on my polling place—P.S. 7 grammar school—was an exciting experience back in the day. There was a palpable buzz in air as the volunteers—predominantly old ladies from the neighborhood—feverishly searched the rolls for my name and party affiliation. Since the pandemic outbreak, I have exclusively voted by absentee ballot. I prefer not visiting the polls in person anymore and—trust me—it has nothing to do with COVID.

Sure, I miss the days of pulling levers on antiquated voting machines in the classrooms where I attended kindergarten, my one and only public-school education. I can’t say that I remember much about the kindergarten syllabus, but I do know that Mrs. Rothman was not lecturing us on gender dysphoria.

How was that for a segue way into Election Day 2022? If the Democrats have a bad night, the movers and the shakers are going to have to ask themselves this fundamental question: “How did we lose to a party largely captured by conspiratorialists, assorted nut jobs, and slavish devotees of a potty-mouthed loon?” The answer: See what Mrs. Rothman was not teaching to five-year-old boys and girls in 1967-68 and then extrapolate from there. Woke insanity run amok is a loser.

Now, I voted for the addle-brained fossil who now occupies the White House. Along with many others, my hope was that this mediocrity—and that’s being overly generous—might somehow diffuse the hyper-partisan, debased political atmosphere of the present. But, no, old Joe went all out woke and spent money like a drunken sailor. And he wanted to spend a whole lot more. I was a kid during the inflationary 1970s and hardly noticed. Well, I’m not a kid anymore and I notice. While inflation doesn’t seem to bother the women of The View, or a certain gasbag talk-show host who was—apparently—unfamiliar with the term until this election cycle, it bothers me big time and so does crime.

Again, I lived through some notable crime spells in New York City. The late 1970s and early 1990s found the mean streets even meaner. I witnessed an armed robbery on the subway. A neighbor a few houses up the block from me was the victim of an attempted robbery—and shot at—as he entered his car in the early morning hours. My teenage friends and I were attacked with belts by a gang of youths after seeing the movie Hooper, starring Burt Reynolds, on Fordham Road in the Bronx. One member of the pack suggested “slicing up the fat one,” my bestie, who by today’s standards, was positively svelte. So, yes, he was body shamed and we were victims of an unrecorded hate crime.

Nevertheless, those were simpler times. While all that nasty stuff was going down, our family front door was often left unlocked while we were out and about during the daylight hours. In 2022, it seems one can’t go a day without reading about a random attack in the subway, often committed by a violent, mentally ill individual who should be someplace else getting the help he or she needs. And, what’s with virtually everything being under lock and key in so many stores, even ones with security guards? I’ve dramatically cut back on my shopping at local drugstore chains because I don’t want to press a buzzer to summon staff to purchase razor blades, a dozen eggs, and Swiffer wet mop pads. It’s a boon for Amazon, though. Don’t get me started, too, on the ubiquitous speed racers in my midst with their piercingly loud, revving, and popping engines. These automobiles and motorcycles are turning once quiet back streets into the Indy 500. Forgive me, then, for wistfully looking back to the 1970s when Republican Gerald Ford battled Democrat Jimmy Carter for the presidency, a better time and a better crime.

(Photos from the personal collection of Nicholas Nigro)