I should say I was in Hyde Park — it wasn't my dog, but my son's. Not my home, but his, and his wife's. They were, ah, busy elsewhere and, in my full service dad mode, I'd volunteered to go walk the dog.
No hardship. A perfect night. Gorgeous stone mansions lined the street. Why doesn't anyone even try to build these anymore? Mature trees — do I call Northbrook "the leafy suburban paradise"? Hyde Park makes Northbrook look like Nebraska.
At 50th Street I passed the above sign. Obama's block. Odd, I thought, walking on, that they'd cut off traffic for him — he's hardly ever there. I wonder if the residents resent it. They must. Past 50th, a second sign. I took a closer look. Oh. The "P" was taped on. A college prank, probably. And I fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker. You'd think, having written a book on college pranks myself, I wouldn't be taken in so easily. No shame there. We are all duped now and then. This at least is clever, and harmless. Without effect, except to draw a smile. And when was the last time something presidential did that?
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