Yesterday, I stepped out of the Diversey station, to find that the mayor of Carmel By the Sea was camped out in a newsstand, dressed as a Depression-era newsboy, surrounded by guys dressed as, most likely, gangsters or G-men or somesuch. These in turn were surrounded by camera men, and grips, and honey wagon wranglers or whatever, interspersed with lots of cops and pseudo-cops in day-glo vests and sort of ordinary people dressed in ordinary people clothes, all asking each other What's going on? and Is that somebody famous, or just a guy with sunglasses on? as I walked through the crowd, waving away the autograph seekers.
I nodded to Clint. He squinted back.
We're like that, Clint & I. Like that.