Scene 1: On the subway and surrounded by five people reading real books: “The Catcher in the Rye,” something by David Sedaris, something about the Medicis and two I couldn’t catch.
Scene 2: On the Long Island Rail Road, waiting for the doors to open, standing toe-to-toe with a gentleman whose head was in his hand-held, and I said:
“No one looks at anyone any more; everyone’s into their hands.”
And he looked up into my eyes and said: ‘I’m looking at you now.’
And we both smiled as I exited the train.
Maybe there’s hope.