By 1,600 miles away from the Northeast Corridor, my rescue dog Lee K. (he had pedigree) and I had abandoned our preoccupation with status. That was wise. After all, we were going to settle, probably for the rest of our lives, in the desert. There pretense was impossible. About 2,200 miles later we arrived in Tucson, Arizona.
That was about three months ago. Lee K. now will butt-sniff mutts, not just pure breeds. I haven't mentioned what I "do for a living" since I got here. That's because no one has asked me.
So, it shocked me that The New York Times rituals still go on and on. There are, for instance, the wedding announcements and photos. This afternoon I was at the public library and there they were in the newspaper pile that no one here reads. That gave me an idea.
Since just about anything goes in the desert, I wonder if I can get a marriage license for Lee K. and myself. Have a bit of a party. Then send the photo, with no allusions to any pedigrees e.g. breeds, elite schooling, Fortune 50 worked for, to The New York Times. Might be a game-changer for mores along the Northeast Corridor.