ndrosen

I’m now on an Amtrak train, headed back to Washington, from which I should be able to reach my apartment in Arlington. I participated in the Board of Directors and Membership meetings of the Robert Schalkenbach Foundation, and got to see a number of my Georgist friends. I have a good impression of the new Executive Director of the Foundation, a woman with management experience elsewhere, and, it seems, a commitment to Georgist idealism.

Here’s a little story: On Friday, I walked from Penn Station to Little India, carrying my suitcase and backpack; I found an Indian grocery, and stocked up on spicy mango pickles, fenugreek seeds, and other stuff I can’t conveniently find in my own neighborhood. By that time, I was hot and tired, so I took a cab to the hotel where we were meeting, instead of trying to take the subway. You know the stereotype of the New York cabbie: brash, foreign accent, drives dangerously, makes rude gestures to other drivers, keeps switching lanes to save ten seconds? Well, I must have had the driver who gave rise to the whole stereotype.

He did get me there in one piece, I have to grant him that.