2,359 words
In the summer of 2019, I ran into Tucker Carlson in the Delta terminal at Kennedy Airport in New York. I was waiting for a flight to DC and had just finished lunch at one of those places where you order at the table from an electronic menu. Just as I was about to leave, Tucker walked in and sat down quite near me. There was no mistaking who he was — he looked exactly like he does on TV, only he was wearing a red flannel lumberjack shirt. And he was alone. (more…)