Missed a Month Once More...

Behind me plays "Dountown Abbey" (I'm a bit unsure about the spelling) as I realize that once again I have neglected to write here. But then, I have a journal I neglect, fiction writing I neglect, even poetry I neglect, so why should I worry, why should I care... oh, god, singing again, you must realize dear Peggy that that voice is dreadful. Except to dear Arlo Guthrie, who once told us all to just sing, to hell with the people who said we couldn't. As for all the things I 'should' be doing, they are rife, so who cares.

THE FOURTH                 7/4/2012

The Fourth of July is tomorrow... but god knows when this will arrive in my blogspot, as I now have forgotten how to get into the writing part of my blogspot. I can find the bs... all I have written, but now where to write... probably because I haven’t written in it in ages and ages... and my little mind is shrinking with age. Oh, it is hell to get old... watch it kids, you will find out eventually!!!

Ah, but I do remember the 4th of July... so many 4ths. Used to love the 4th of my early childhood... Port Austin and the fireworks set off by Dummy DeMay and staying up late to go down to the main beach to watch, or sometimes just lying on blankets on our beach, away from the noise... where we could just see the great bursts of color above the public beach, close enough.

But my favorite fourths were in Chicago, of all places. I kinda miss the "Old Fashioned Fourth of July" we used to have in Old Town in Chicago. All of our local politicians would rally in Lincoln Park, where they set up a stage and lots of folding chairs, and people came from all over the area for the celebration... lots of balloons and speeches and games for the kidlets... and neighbors meeting neighbors and mixing with all the politicians. Old Town was a very Democratic district and an area where the 'workers' and the intellectuals met regularly... lots of Univ. people there -- artists, writers, performers, and lots of union organizers... a very fun crowd of people. Our local representative, whose name I cannot recall... was a brilliant man and very well liked... a charmer... and the whole crowd was always interesting. I miss all of them... and my daughter still talks about the fun she had at those gatherings when she was a kid. Don't think I have ever felt as patriotic anywhere else as I did there. 

Well, actually, I think maybe I might have when I saw my family names on the big memorial for the Battle of Lexington and Concord. Three of my ancestors were killed in that battle. It's a wonder the family survived considering the number of us killed during the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, the Civil War, name any ‘Americn’ war. Of course I now feel that I should at least be helping the Occupy crowd start another revolution... god knows we need one... and will even more if very many republicans are elected to any offices in the next election... I hope most of them are thrown out, particularly the weird and stupid tea partiers... god or Buddha or Krishna or maybe a friendly devil...  someone save us from those idiots, who have no idea what this country has come through, or where it should be going. They are merely the basically greedy, little people with not much education, and less sense, who think that they should not be helping anyone else, but should have all the best for themselves. They really do not seem to have any idea how government works, but think it should work for them alone, I feel.

I am so sick and tired of the elaborate Fourth of July Celebrations put together by the powers that be, and broadcast on PBS. The Capitol lit in red white and blue... some symphony orchestra with added violins and trumpets sitting out front and crowds spilled out on every green spot they can find... always the same old raucous classical pieces with lots of drums and banging cymbals... a cannon shot or two and more banging of cymbals to finish. But, unfortunately, that is what I am left with these days. I cannot manage the long trek over to the fields on the other side of town to sit in the fog and hope to be able to see the fireworks. Too cold and too far away these days. I no longer can stand for ages on the curb waiting for Dykes on Bikes and the Pride Parade, and I am far too old to go and sit in Crissy Field, wrapped in blankets, waiting for an occasional flash of fireworks through the low-lying fog. So on with the clanging of cymbals whoever is conducting the symphony in front of the Capitol this year...... bang!