Back to Zuccotti Park

It was starting out to be another hot and beautiful day in Providence when, early this morning, Plottie drove Ducknik to T.F. Green Airport for her flight home to S.P. A few hours later it was time for a somewhat teary goodbye to The Great BZWZ, Plot's all-grown-up scientist who will nonetheless always be his little girl. BZ drove Plot to the Amtrak station and a few hours after that Plot got off in the core of the apple. Even the stairs at Penn Station are painted up.

He and The Great PD went straight over to Eisenberg's Deli for lunch, and posed with their cousin Josh, whose pastrami sandwich was better at $9 than Katz's at $15.95. Josh sits at the counter and eats. What better advertisement for your restaurant? And he's not a little man.

After lunch The Great Plotnik took the R train down to Zuccotti Park to see what has happened to the encampment of Occupy Wall Street-ers in the two weeks since he and Duck were down there looking at the World Trade Center construction.

It has gotten huge.

The police seem content to keep the sidewalks clear as the hundreds of people sit on the concrete inside and an equal amount mill about outside the makeshift campground. It's very fluid -- young and old, black and white, male and female, everyone in their own -- sort of -- marked off spot where they might have a jerry-built display of recycled gray water or a sprouts kitchen or the planning desk with an activity set out for every half hour, or the medical area, or the free, donated food area. Or the people's library.

At one point, Plot was talking with a young guy holding a sign about how corporations are not humans. He made some interesting points. Then, he needed to take a break so Plotnik took his sign for him and held it up himself for fifteen minutes or so.

People came up to him saying all kinds of things, like "What do you guys want anyway, money? Is that it?" Plotnik said "look around. You'll be hard pressed to see any money at all. Money is not the issue here."

Someone else said "I did this in the '60s. I think it's a disgrace. Why are they dressed like it's a circus? Why aren't they wearing suits so people will pay attention?" Plotnik said "Ma'am, I was there in the '60s too. Nobody wore any suits and people paid lots of attention. This is just the start."

Cops surround the park. Plot went over to one of New York's finest and said "Excuse me, officer. You guys are being really nice to these people in here."

"Protect and serve," the officer said, mouthing the official slogan of the NYPD.

Plotnik persisted: "But the last time I did this, you guys were busting heads. I guess times have changed, huh?"

"Huh," he said.