He kind of has that sunken skull, empty skin suit look.

If I saw him at a coffee shop I could easily identify him as a hard-core lefty with his high-brow smug face. He'd be the one reading the dusty cloth-bound book that smells of mildew and cats.

His car is the Prius parked outside diagonally crossing the parking space stripes, wheels still turned, bumper hung up on the concrete curb, ready to make that scraping noise when he backs off of it, with the rear covered in leftist woke bumper stickers.