So I'm standing on the corner of 45th and Lexington. Next to me is a postal worker with his little wagon full of mail. A car service Lincoln pulls up close to the curb ... a little too close for the postal worker, who says, "You trying to fuckin run me over?" Then he rams his little mail wagon into the car. Two other postal workers happen to be on the corner as well (this is right across from the big Grand Central post office) and one of them says to the guy, "Go postal on him, man. Go postal on him." That's right, my Newmanesque friends, fight the power.