It’s the first of July, the
start of the Fourth of July
celebration. There is much
energy in the air, people
shopping for beer, getting
the boat ready, picnics. I
sit and think about the
dissipation of that energy
and enthusiasm over the
evolution of a short period
of time — too much sun, too
much beer, too much good
cheer, boiling and broiling
irritation at the neighbor’s
boorish political opinions
while said neighbor pontifi-
cates while standing over
the grill looking down at
what the man thinks could
pass for the neighbor’s
relatives — hot dogs, re-
trieving the boat from the
water in a dense, head fog,
fights between husbands and
wives about the best way to
run the boat up on the trailer
without carving a slice of
fiberglass while children
sit in the backseat glued
to their phones. My wife and
I decide to go for a jog at
a quiet, seldom used trail,
hunker down, play it safe,
lie low with the chocolate
lab and shudder at the thought
of all those people on the
road back to Chicago.