What better way to celebrate this terrific country than to blow up a small piece of it? That is the essence of the fireworks display, and I'm pretty certain the Mall was packed with onlookers. Not this guy, though--manning the grill and the drinks, I stayed put on the balcony with the other party stragglers and limited my firework experience to the thunderous sounds.
The 235th year of this nation's life (measured from the day we told Britain we really needed our own place, our own space, and it's not you it's me) was ushered in with extreme heat (today it's supposed to hit 100--eek!) and hangovers. We celebrated with representatives of the next generation--Lil' Caroline and Baby JAM--hope you kids remember to pay your Social Security!--and the inauguration of my anniversary present, a standup George Foreman grill (great for balconies where propane and charcoal grilling is not allowed!). When you can cook up some meaty goodness and hear the sound of firecrackers in the distance, life is good.
Other countries may be pretty terrific, but ours still wins hands down.