A Flattened Lincoln

Last month I was at a book launch in Washington, DC. This was an event for Republicans—sparsely attended. Older gentlemen and ladies who may have been notable once were obviously struggling with anonymity, looking for people they themselves might know without looking too eager to everyone else. Of course, there were almost no young people except the waiting staff. I knew maybe five people there and wondered what they were doing there; and vice versa. This was a cultural event, so that adds to the embarrassment in the most transactional city in America. What else to do but network halfheartedly and get a drink?