Well, what with the news about Scot-Free Scooter and the continuing
failure of the Incontinental Congress to pull up their pull-ups and
meaningfully oppose the war, I wasn’t too keen on celebrating our
national natal day. But then I read this piece by Jonah Goldberg in USA
Today: Bigotry, After A Tough Third Quarter, Comes Through In The Clutch,
and I realized that the promise of America remains evergreen — that any
child of privilege, no matter how stupid or lazy, can grow up to inject
a Grand Banks-like fog of intestinal gas into the national dialogue.
But as it happens, we’ve come down to the beach for a couple of days, and our hotel balcony overlooks the park at the base of Balboa Pier. And while everyone seems to be having a great time, I wonder if Jonah would really feel comfortable in the midst of these festivities. I don’t know why (actually, I do, I’ve read too much of his work), but I doubt he’d derive much genuine pleasure from the loud confusion of overlapping musical styles, the black and Hispanic kids squealing their way through a pickup game of soccer, the two huge Samoan guys throwing a football around with a small group of giggling, neurasthenic white dudes…although he’d probably be okay with the geek who drove all the way down to the beach to spend the Fourth of July taking fuzzy pictures with his camera phone and blogging about other peoples’ barbecues. But anyway…it’s your basic gorgeous mosaic. And while Jonah and his icky ilk can make me wish some enterprising Tory had put a musket ball in John Adam’s skull when it would have done the most good, looking up from the computer screen from time to time reminds me that it’s not the country I hate, it’s just the management. And the Board of Directors. And some of the stockholders.
So happy Fourth of July, fellow staffers. There’s hot dogs, beer, and bunting in the break room.
But as it happens, we’ve come down to the beach for a couple of days, and our hotel balcony overlooks the park at the base of Balboa Pier. And while everyone seems to be having a great time, I wonder if Jonah would really feel comfortable in the midst of these festivities. I don’t know why (actually, I do, I’ve read too much of his work), but I doubt he’d derive much genuine pleasure from the loud confusion of overlapping musical styles, the black and Hispanic kids squealing their way through a pickup game of soccer, the two huge Samoan guys throwing a football around with a small group of giggling, neurasthenic white dudes…although he’d probably be okay with the geek who drove all the way down to the beach to spend the Fourth of July taking fuzzy pictures with his camera phone and blogging about other peoples’ barbecues. But anyway…it’s your basic gorgeous mosaic. And while Jonah and his icky ilk can make me wish some enterprising Tory had put a musket ball in John Adam’s skull when it would have done the most good, looking up from the computer screen from time to time reminds me that it’s not the country I hate, it’s just the management. And the Board of Directors. And some of the stockholders.
So happy Fourth of July, fellow staffers. There’s hot dogs, beer, and bunting in the break room.
Molly Ivins-esque in its own, beautiful way….
I’ve got soda and Cool Whip/Chocolate Cream Cheese Frosting Mousse With Maraschino Cherries for everyone. Dig in, and happy whatever it is you still like about us. Me, I’m in it for the trees, the rivers, and some of the people.
I’ve got soda and Cool Whip/Chocolate Cream Cheese Frosting Mousse With Maraschino Cherries for everyone. Dig in, and happy whatever it is you still like about us. Me, I’m in it for the trees, the rivers, and some of the people.
Very lovely, Scott.
And anyway, even if some redcoat bullet had had Adams’, or Washington’s, or Nathaniel Green’s name on it, we could still be wallowing in ick at this very moment. Look at Australia, or even Canada’s current rightie-tightie government.
And anyway, even if some redcoat bullet had had Adams’, or Washington’s, or Nathaniel Green’s name on it, we could still be wallowing in ick at this very moment. Look at Australia, or even Canada’s current rightie-tightie government.
Sis. BOOM! Bah!
I understand Jonah very quietly spent Independence Day serving the inmates at the local penitnetiary.
I mean, “servicing”…
I mean, “servicing”…
Ah, Balboa Pier. I know it well. I can almost picture the scene
you describe, and in the midst of it there is Sylvester Stallone
chugging up the steps toward the museum, ready to wrap himself in a flag
and punch the daylights out of a member of some foreign group we don’t
like. Happy fourth, plead the fifth.
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