Summoning the Mockingbird Mob

Years ago, I was a small-town cop, working a steady twelve to eight in the morning and spending most of my patrol engaged with my Main Street’s eleven bars.  Combative drunks, runaways hitchhikers out on the State Route who’d duck into the woods when you rolled by, speeders, car accidents, vandalism complaints, hippie girls (this was the nineteen-seventies) turning tricks, and so on.  And it wasn’t too long before I was confirmed in an opinion of Village residents as trash. But then I relieved one of the officers guarding the polls on Village election day, and it reordered my conclusion.  Who were these people coming in to vote?  The nicely dressed couples with well-groomed, smiling children who’d be ushered into the voting booth ahead of their parents so they could be shown something important.  Where did all these ladies come from who sold cakes and pies at the Village Hall on election day in order to raise money for the Town...(Read Full Article)