5th of July

Originally Posted Friday, July 5, 2013

I am drinking something neither an Irish Car Bomb nor a Boilermaker, but it has the same ingredients, just in a different ratio.  I should name it.  It is just whiskey with beer instead of soda, of which I am out.  It is good.  Try it first thing in the morning.  Get up, drink one, then go back to bed.  It will cure insomnia for awhile. 

All about I hear the explosion of fireworks.  Oh, yes. . . it is the 4th of July, Independence Day.  I hate days like this, days when the yahoos get a chance to act stupid.  I love freedom and rebellion, don't get me wrong, but that is not what the crackerheads are celebrating today.  They are celebrating an American Conformity that has something to do with the Alamo and 9-11.  It is a conservative's orgy.  For me, it is like Easter.  Etc. 

I shot with a new model today.  What a thing.  She is young-ish (not sixteen) and today was her first shoot.  She could not have started with a nicer guy.  She is from a small town in Washington from which she fled.  She came to Disney and went to school (really?) for housekeeping.  Of course she didn't like that, but she liked the boy she met and stayed.  She now has a hostessing job and lives with two girls in an apartment.  She just broke up with her boy because he (nineteen) is a cheating, lying scumbag. 

"Really," I queried?  "That is awful.

She had gone through his Facebook account and found all the old girlfriends and whores he had been writing lascivious messages to. 

"Oh, my," I said.  "That is just wrong." 

I mean. . . who would think a nineteen year old boy would follow his dick? 

She showed up after taking the bus from a town some distance away.  It took two and a half hours, but she was right on time.  She was a tyro Emo.  What she wants, I don't know.  Nor does she. 

At lunch, she told me that she hadn't planned to shoot this way, but I was cool (of course) and everything was laid back and she felt good. 

"Hell," I said at a new restaurant (her choice) on the Boulevard eating a grilled tuna and seaweed sandwich that was incredible, "You were so beautiful." 

And it was true.  I can't figure out the whole "Super Model" thing.  I can, but I can't.  Everyone is so beautiful, at least in part.  You can hardly go wrong.

Afterwards, I went to my mother's for an Independence Day celebration.  She grilled hamburgers and hotdogs and had beans and corn and watermelon.  She invited the woman with whom she often travels and the fellow who lives across the street.  My mother.  She's become a partier. 

How can you not love the American People.  They are the ones who drive side by side on a three lane highway as if it were a prayer meeting and they were holding hands.  They speed up when you try to pass them and slow down when they have you trapped.  They are the ones who get into the right hand lane to turn left.  They are the ones who do not go at a green light because they are texting someone more important than you.  America, where Snowden is the criminal and Zimmerman is a. . . well, who knows yet? 

But if you are from some other country, don't get too cocky or comfortable.  You are a nation of dimwits, too, I promise.  The 4th is just our day to parade it. Your turn will come.