The latest thing to experience Sudden-Polarization Syndrome is the Post Office, because Trump wants to weld the boxes shut to keep people from voting by mail, or something. Young resisters are flocking to the USPS’s defense, as if it’s the sclerotic-institutional version of Ruth Bader Ginsburg.
I too love my post office, a little embassy from 1962. Cheerful staff, but it’s a dumpy and careworn place. There is a TV set in the corner by the ceiling, like they had in bars in the ’50s. It plays upbeat videos about all the things you can do at the post office, and …
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