So . . . I had the foresight to save my yard sign from the 2008 election. JLA, with whom I hardly see eye-to-eye on political matters, wouldn't let me put it up until he got his own yard sign. Petty? Yes, but I'm old enough to realize that little straight boys sometimes need to be indulged lest they pitch hissy fits. And I have no tolerance for hissy fits.
My front-yard drama wasn't over. Clapping broke through the sound of windblown leaves. Bewildered, I glanced around. Our neighbor, a retired railroad worker, was standing on his porch across the road, apparently watching my show. "Way to go!" he called out.
The next act has yet to be written. But it will be when JLA gets home from work.