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What's really hilarious about Jim Geraghty's mock-outrage on behalf of stolid, salt-of-the-earth, suburban commuters is that, until recently, Geraghty was living as an expatriate in Turkey while working, according to his Simon and Schuster biography, as a "foreign correspondent." That's what you do if you're a political writer and you decide national politics just isn't glamorous or exciting enough. Now he's writing odes to the common man like:
some people are just fine with jobs that require them to take the New Rochelle train. Some people actually prefer it to the stress, the risk, the time away from family, the constant demands from strangers. And the world needs these people — who get up every morning, go to work to do jobs with no glamor and little or no prestige, wages modest or worse, and whose names never appear in the newspaper. These folks receive a round of applause when they dance at their wedding, and at their retirement party, and that's about it.Oh, c'mon, don't sell that life short: You also get to have Jim Geraghty defend you from made up insults! Exciting!
