The Fourth

It happens to be the fourth of July today. A day in which rather than contemplate our independence from England, we blow things up. And we go to parades. I went to a parade today. I don't want to be rude, but I wasn't impressed. That's fine. I didn't expect to be. I thought, how many things will I see that makes me think, "Boy, you don't see that every day." Virtually nothing. There were fire trucks, police cars, people in uniform, flat bed trucks with people on them for no discernible reason. One truck had nothing on it, but did have a "for sale" sign and a phone number attached.

Anyone in uniform got applause. "And now, the night crew at Taco Bell." Okay, I don't want to be unpatriotic, but not all people wearing uniforms are heroes. There is a difference between coming back from being deployed in Iraq and having been a typist in an office your whole enlistment period. And yes, I never was in the military in any form, so I should just shut up.

Parades just don't do it for me, but others seem to love them. This one was good, though. I sat in Subway and watched through a window. At times I watched and at other times I read the paper. Really, a great time for me.

The only parade I really liked was many years ago I saw a Rose Parade. It had Iron Eyes Cody, an American Indian, famous that he cried during a commercial, Lawrence Welk, and Frank Sinatra. How cool. Today's was way down from that one, but today's came in second place for me.

To honor America, here are fireworks.