One of the pleasures of flying out of Newark — and there are so many — is the epic view of Manhattan, that soaring bulwark of affluence and might just off the coast of America.<\/p>\n
But on Friday, when we pulled out for points west just after sunrise, I imagined all the brick-and-mortar ambition sinking into the rivers that encircle it. No need to ask why so glum, not with everybody watching their 401(k)’s pirouette down a black hole. Each passing day has brought new nightmares on Wall Street and more shared misery.<\/p>\n
Still, by the end of the day, I was sitting on a hotel patio in Los Angeles, staring up the hill at that Hollywood sign and chatting with a smart young woman who markets movies. When the subject of the tumbling economy finally came up, she said that she had indeed been cutting back — by ordering drip coffee instead of a latte.<\/p>\n
I waited a bit for the woman to crack a smile, to hammer me for being so credulous, but then I realized she was serious.<\/p>\n