I'd love to run with the pack if I could find the damn pack. I wander streets at night searching for anything resembling a pack. At intersections I yell at drivers, "Have you seen any packs around?" They usually ignore me, but one guy described what he assumed was an environmental pack demonstrating in front of a hardware store. Walking quickly, I found myself confronted by a group of eight folks holding up signs. "Burst the bulbs!" and "Exposure to new bulbs causes cancer!"
The leader, a short man with premature jowls, explained there was scientific evidence these new environment friendly bulbs that cost four times more than the old bulbs cause the analytical part of the brain to atrophy. He gave me examples; Housewives of New Jersey on cable, Ron Paul, Meet Up groups, million dollar drones that mistakenly bomb our allies, the Winter Olympics, especially curling, the continuing career of Lorenzo Lamas, fish oil supplements, a phone app for obscenities.
They were a small, vociferous bunch, none of whom looked like they spent much time choosing a wardrobe--my kind of pack. I grabbed a sign and joined in. Ten minutes later, slightly hoarse, I asked what time was lunch? Even packs have to recharge.
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