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July 4: A Day of Pints and Haircuts
Kathy, I’m lost,” I said, though I knew she was sleeping.
“I’m empty and aching and I don’t know why”
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
They’ve all come to look for America
All come to look for America
All come to look for America— Paul Simon
It’s the strangest Fourth of July in my life, maybe yours as well. In London, where there’s not much virus (at least for now), Super Saturday is here. Pubs, restaurants, and haircuts, for those who risk them. And soon, travel to a few countries and overseas territories.
But travel not, advises the government, to the famous former colonies celebrating the end of a revolution that declared independence from a King and became the prototypes for modern democracy. As an American, that’s sobering (no pun intended on pub independence day).
Writing from Richmond upon Thames, a mile or two from Kew Palace, where the Tea Party inspiration George III convalesced during his periods of mental illness, I can’t help but observe the irony…
