From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Sound
The scratchy static of the new superheterodyne receiver competing with the wind makes my chest tight, though I can hear the neighbors humming along to Whiting’s "Till We Meet Again" through the thin walls. Everyone is scrambling to get to the movies before the evening chill sets in, but I’m paralyzed looking at the board outside the filling station. I remember when a dime felt like plenty, but seeing gas climb to an outrageous $0.15 a gallon makes my heart race with the fear that the peace won't fix our empty pockets. Between the President sailing for England and the price of a loaf creeping up, I can’t help but wonder if the world is spinning far too fast for us to keep up.