Rob and I were walking Goblin down an alley after purchasing pretty window boxes for our new house. “We’re doing the Gay Pride festival,” announced the woman who owns the neighborhood florist. In his shopping bag, Rob carried a Weekly World News that announced the discovery of homosexual aliens in the wreckage of a downed UFO.

“Look at that,” said Rob, gesturing toward a garage door.

In audacious, ugly letters, someone had scrawled the word “FAG.”

Some kind soul had crossed this out and written: “I love gay people. And bundles of sticks.”

And all was right with the world.

(The window boxes are being delivered tomorrow.)