Apathy Shmapathy…After a very quiet breakfast with Rapha sans political discussion at neighboring cafe tables, we walked to my polling station at a local elementary school. Seated in plastic lawn chairs outside one of the designated voting booth classrooms were a dozen and a half people. You’re all waiting to vote? I asked. One balding, forty-something with arms folded across his chest answered: No. We have an appointment with the doctor.
I laughed too. And split. Later on this. The place was swimming with people waiting to see the doctor. I’ll come back when everyone’s feeling a bit better.