We went to breakfast early this morning. We sat outside on the patio. The uber-unhinged were out in full force, in need of "any change or a dollar" with a renewed fervency and vigor. For many this is the final day of the July 4th weekend. So they have ramped up their addictions to match the general avidity in the land. Liberty indeed.
I worked all weekend and today is my first day off. I am going back to bed to watch a movie and hopefully sleep more. I have withheld all coffee intake in preparation for this.
On our way home there was a woman crying by a car, with a friend, bemoaning her mistreatment by some other friend. Exclaiming through the sobs that her dad is in the hospital because that "piece of shit"... and that he, "almost had a heart-attack when he heard what she had done..." I didn't surmise that this was at all plausible. That a man was in the hospital because of a near coronary panic at the hearing of some strange foul news. I thought that was a cliche only: heart-attacks on demand.
I remember going to Disney once on July 4th when I was an adolescent. It was hot and crowded and unpleasant and false. There were many fireworks, many more than usual. People from all over the world cheered. The cheering seemed strange to me. I wondered at what they were hurraying. I wondered what their experience and impression of July 4th is. Or were they just cheering the fireworks, or their lives, or China. Or brightly colored explosions in the sky. Or because there was no other appropriate response to have.