Jumbled thoughts after the Fourth

 

My vicious guard dog

The Fourth of July is America’s most patriotic holiday. We are, most of us, pumped with enthusiasm for God, country, and whatever. This year in many ways it was particularly sweet, since many of us survived the pandemic and the reign of trump. Disease numbers are down, trump loses followers daily, the job numbers are up, and Biden has shown himself to be a real leader and gentleman in his reaction to the Florida condo collapse and a myriad of other problems.

So it was a bit of a shock to wake today to news reports that said there were 400 shootings across the country over the weekend, with 150 deaths. In Fort Worth, we had fourteen shootings with one death—a pretty high record for us. And too many drownings. I have a Facebook friend who lives outside Chicago and constantly bemoans the violence in that city. So do I, because it’s my hometown. But I was a bit pleased tonight to tell him that out of 50 most dangerous cities in the US Chicago is #31. Detroit is #1, no surprise, but I was surprised that Springfield, Missouri is #3. Several Texas cities were ranked, but not Fort Worth.

I read an article today about the rather dramatic uptick in violence in this country, particularly gun violence. It seems that Federal agencies predicted this, even at the beginning of pandemic. Many people have built up such tension--over fear of the virus, social isolation, the encouragement of right-wing violence, all the strains we've been living under--that this outburst was expected. But one sane voice predicted that Americans are resilient, and we will bounce back to a more regular existence. Not sure that includes mass shootings, nor do I think it means we don't have to work for stricter gun control laws, such as the ban on assault rifles and laws that keep guns out of the hands of the mentally unbalanced and the untrained.

People are still complaining today about the noise of fireworks. I am not as bothered as some, but I have had dogs who were terrified, so I recognize that problem, and I can only imagine how traumatic it is for veterans with PTSD. I will say that Sophie was absolutely unfazed and slept through all those that we could hear. I read of a town in Italy that decreed all fireworks would be silent—you get the beautiful visuals without the noise. I didn’t even know they could do that, but I like the idea. The last time I went to a fireworks show, we sat too close for my comfort, and every time one exploded directly overhead, I felt like my heart stopped. At my age, that’s an uncomfortable feeling. You never know when it could be true.

In reflecting on last night, I was amused to realize I have forgotten how good a traditional Fourth dinner can taste. Hot dog with sauerkraut (okay, I know the kraut is not traditional), baked beans (the only can I had was Heinz vegetarian but they tasted just fine), and potato salad. I had beans and potato salad for lunch today. Still good.

Too much of my own company this long weekend, though Sophie has been a good companion. She, that little 30-lb. dog, stood a yard worker off today, barking and feinting a charge or two. He clung to the gate with it half open, ready to make an escape any minute. When I called out for him to please shut the gate, he made no move. Either he was terrified, or he has no English—or both. At any rate, Sophie was very pleased with herself, and I am glad to have her for protection.

I’ll be grateful to get back to sort of routine tomorrow, with a couple of social things planned. Meantime, I am enjoying the slightly cooler weather. Sitting with the patio doors open tonight.

Sweet dreams, everyone.