Today, on the uptown 6, I got into an intelligent and heated conversation about the all-too-talked about (already) Spitzer scandal. My peers in this conversation? Well, me of course, 20 something grad student. 50 something year old white working stiff, donning a gray trench and black leather briefcase. And teen aged dude, bling in his ears, girlfriend on his arm.

It all started because the high school kid was talking way too loudly on the train (which, by the way, is generally the case on any subway I've ever been on. Children under the age of 18 who aren't practically screaming at all times, don't actually exist). He was reading working stiff's newspaper over his shoulder and asking him obnoxious questions, maybe to get a rise out of him, who really knows. Anyway, he says, "Whatever, can't blame the guy. He cheated on his wife. Big deal."


The debate ensued. I will not go into details as this widely publicized debate will be an awful reincarnation of the Clinton debacle, but I will say this. Goddamned if I don't love New York City.

We're a diverse group with tons of different opinions, and thank god we ALL are willing to voice them.


That is all.