I had a flashback during the approximately 30 minutes I could bear to watch of the State of the Union address. In the summer of 1974, which for me was the summer between high school and college, I was working the front counter at Kazdal’s Deli on University Way in Seattle. Kazdal’s (which later became the Lock, Stock and Bagel) was more of a lunch spot than a dinner restaurant. So just before 6 p.m. on August 9, the place was pretty quiet. Suddenly, someone burst in our door and asked if we had a TV. “Nixon’s about to resign!” he said. No, we didn’t have a TV. “But the Continental does,” said the cook, who had come running in from the kitchen. “Let’s get over there.” The Continental was the Greek restaurant across the street. The cook dashed on over. I looked around—not a customer in the place—grabbed the keys, locked the front door and followed him. I was about halfway across when a cop on a motorcycle roared up to me. “Get back on the sidewalk, Miss. I’m writing you a ticket for jaywalking.” “But Officer, don’t you know? Nixon’s resigning right now and I have to get to the Continental to see it on TV!” The policeman was unmoved. He took down my name and address and gave me my ticket, watching me as I ran up to the crosswalk, waited for the light to change, and ran into the Continental, just in time to catch Nixon weirdly yammering on to the American [...]