Report from the front lines.
As every parent knows, children can sleep through anything when they’re tired enough. So it was with our two kids Monday night. They snored away, oblivious to the buzz of helicopters overhead, the constant wail of sirens — and the distinct crack of gunshots that rang out at around 10:40 somewhere in Midtown East, where we live. Their parents, on the other hand, were bundles of racked nerves.
I went downstairs to see for myself. In the four hours that followed, I felt the insecurity of lawlessness and disorder more acutely than I ever had before — and I’ve filed datelines all over the Middle East, including from the front line of the Iraqi Kurdish war against the Islamic State.
Yeah, you be sure and vote to re-elect DeBalledZero again now, pal.
Back when I was living there, one of my favorite LES dive-bars was a dingy, loud rock-and-roll/punk rock den of iniquity called Downtown Beirut. It’s long gone, alas, so I will refrain from commenting on the attendant irony now.