Walking in Brooklyn this morning, waiting at a busy intersection, I end up next to a family who look like my kind of people. Non-hipsters, the wife is clean and neat, has makeup and well-done up hair. Guy's dressed nice enough, looks middle or working class and, you know, not like a girl in a beard, like most Brooklyn residents. Obviously, like me, from out of town.
Across the intersection are a couple of arab-owned shops, and there are women in full-on black burkhas milling around out front.
"Look daddy! What are those?" The kid is pointing excitedly at the ladies.
The father gently pushes his son's pointing finger down, and says "Those are ninjas, Stevie. They fight crime, and have to hide their identity to keep their families safe from bad guys."