The day you could no longer buy leaded gasoline was the saddest day for every waiter in America who was dependent upon the “leaded” or “unleaded” joke whenever approaching a table to offer caffeinated or decaf coffee. Now the coffee service was a hollow gesture. A mechanistic gruel. But Broadway beckoned. And “Leaded or unleaded the musical” opened to pour box office. Which, trivially, was a joke in the first act.
David Raffin is a metaphysicist, posthumorist, and poet. Visit him at davidraffin.com