There You Have It

Anyone who happened to meander about yesterday afternoon might have noticed the number of long, chrome-plated automobiles lined up at stoplights. Many of the cars seemed to be Oldsmobiles; or were they Packards or Plymouths? Not that it matters, because they all looked alike--"streamlined"--with from two to four headlights projecting from the front. Their drivers also looked alike, perhaps because they all wore grey-beige topcoats and felt hats, perhaps only because none of them smiled. Each one sat in his huge car, staring ahead tightlipped, with his window rolled up as if to say "No solicitors allowed." Each one sat there in his car, waiting intently for his light to turn green so that he could roar ahead, so that he could stop at the next signal, silent and dry in his big new car.

Well, there you have it, America. Or there you've had it.