In a world of Maga merch and Musk, I'm holding on to the power of micro-joys

Just back from New York and - this is what you get for flying out of Newark - I'm stunned by the volume of Trump memorabilia for sale at the terminal.

- Emma Brockes

Monday Actual Maga hats and T-shirts; old-timey baseball shirts with "Trump 47" on the front; a fridge magnet depicting Trump's Iwo Jima moment, fist in the air behind the words "Fight! Fight! Fight!"; and a hoodie with the slogan "Take America Back". It's New Jersey, but still - piles of Trump merch for sale so close to the city feels like finding a fur coat store next to the vegan pantry.

In New York itself, meanwhile, a widespread determination by friends to turn away from the news because engagement is too depressing. The question most asked of me as a person living abroad is how are Americans regarded, in general and when they travel overseas? On that front, at least, I can reassure. As ever, it seems to me that most people are too wrapped up in their own parochial dramas to give much thought to what, or who, any passing American they encounter might represent.

With one caveat: en route to New York via Reykjavik, the Icelandic immigration official barks, demands paperwork I've never been asked for before, and tells me brusquely: "The way things are done in America isn't the way we do them in the rest of the world." I'm so stung by this condescension I find myself huffing, Colonel Blimp-style: "I'm a British citizen!" - which probably startles me more than her.