f/k/a Armistice Day
It’s so strange, not to be putting on suit and boots, and making my way to Madison Square Park to march up Fifth Avenue with my Post. I usually am part of the detail that carries our banner, twelve feet across. A warm day like this, at first pleasant, becomes oppressive; but it certainly beats Veterans’ Day 2017, when Our Fair City set the record for the coldest November 11 since 1869. We froze.
But today is strange. Every day is alike now. I went to the Tax Court homepage to check if today was an opinion day, or, if not, to scan the orders for potential blogfodder. It wasn’t until I saw that yesterday’s T. C. Memo. was still up, and no orders had been posted today, that the penny dropped.
National holiday. Tax Court closed.
It just doesn’t feel right.
