I’ve been busy trying to avoid editing today, but I wanted to note what an idyllic weekend it was for Team Celeste. Especially since we spent a few hours jogging around the track at Woodrow Wilson High School on Saturday and Sunday, where we were able to watch the goings-on at Randall Park Fields. Kids playing baseball. Parents cheering. Brothers and sisters chasing each other, bored between innings. The ice cream man stopping by. It was everything America is supposed to be. Oh, and every one of the hundreds of people there were Hispanic. It was so 1950s, just the sort of community gathering that the folks in Farmers Branch remember fondly, and the sort they probably rarely see anymore, due mostly to, you know, the hate-mongering and such.