A dark, rainy day in Norfolk, rare here although par for the course in godforsaken places like Ohio. People look more thoughtful in the rain, with their heads down and brows furrowed. But it's just an illusion; they're still thinking things like, "man, my anus itches!" I'll bet even the First Lady thinks that sometimes. It's the great leveler. Okay, enough of that, or else I risk Laura telling me to shut up, and no one wants that. This was drawn, by the way, looking out the window of Nordstrom's Cafe at the height of lunchtime, and the place is full of ladies of a certain age. I mean packed. In your average restaurant, the ambient noise consists of a nice well-modulated burble of human voices, but because of the narrow demographics present here, the pitch has been raised a couple of octaves and definitely has a sharper timbre. It would be needlessly cruel to evoke the image of a henhouse, so I will refrain from doing so, due to my extraordinary sensitivities. But I'm just sayin.