While walking, I stopped into a dim cafe. A sports bar, actually, and not to have a brew; needed to use the facilities– diabetic, you see.

The glint of cable news stole my attention, I made for the door. Blockade of truckers coming to D.C.– “Let’s do it like OTTAWA,” one sign read. “Love Truckers, Tucker, and Trump!”, a t-shirt proclaimed.

On-screen, a burly guy with a reddish Amish beard bellowed (did he cry out Jan. 6 in the Capitol while swearing off all on marble stationary), “FREEDOM AINT FREE!”

As I headed for fresh air outside, I mused, “Whose Freedom?”