Adelaide was in town working at an anarchist bookstore. We met for coffee after work. I had spent most of the day in Judge Blanchard’s courtroom. His comportment was dignified and sincere and he kept order and was respected and everything ran smoothly in his courtroom. It’s just that he has no charisma.

Judge Blanchard was associated with vastly lowering the bail bonds of gang members, which would make Adelaide proud but many others worried.

Things sometimes got dicey when Adelaide’s inability to modulate her crusade against injustice in a social setting clashed with certain members of the establishment—such as my stepmother—and I had to mediate or gloss things over.

Adelaide says I have Stockholm syndrome for my stepmother.

Then she rushed off to a leftist picnic.