The site: an elegant building in midtown with a glassblock wall rising maybe thirty feet, topped by the usual brick construction for many, many feet beyond that. A small patch of greenery, waist-high. In the middle, this paper sign (slightly the worse for wear after a rainy afternoon):
Lean, yes. Sit, no
The applicable dictionary definition of “façade” is “the face of a building.” Unless you have Spider-Man’s powers, it’s hard to imagine that you can sit on a façade. You can, of course, lean against it, if (in this location) you don’t mind trampling some perfectly innocent ivy.
The second definition of “façade” is “an outward appearance that is maintained to conceal a less pleasant reality.” In a normal election year, I’d mention that politicians lean (as in “rely”) on facades all the time to conceal their “less than pleasant” plans or personality. This particular presidential campaign, though, gives me pause, and not just because I disagree with most policies of many candidates and some policies of all candidates. If this crew is leaning on a façade, it can only be to conceal a more pleasant reality.
With the possible exception of nudist camps, did you ever think you’d miss cover-ups? Campaign 2016 is indeed different.