The Glorious Fourth

I've been trying to figure out why someone with my cranky old-Lefty politics loves the big American holidays as much as I do.  I mean, don't get me wrong; Christmas is great, but I'm a big Independence Day fan.  Thanksgiving usually rocks, too.

July 4th, the better part of twenty years ago, I was ending one period of my life and beginning another, speeding down the road in my car with three vintage sundresses and my Robyn Hitchcock LP's, the only things I initially rescued from a relationship that had just died that evening.  It was the only time in my life I'd ever traveled that light, but what I'd grabbed pretty much summed me up.  I've long since forgiven my poor ex, and I hope he has me--but that Independence Day was the beginning of who I am now, and everything I've done with my life since.   So I'm planning on lighting a sparkler for my country as well as myself this Friday. 

And I'm going to be on the air at Rando, from 4 to 6 Eastern, streaming live.  I'm thinking I'll read a little Twain, perhaps, and play a lot of American music of course.  It'll be good.

You know, when I started writing this blog entry, I mentioned Thanksgiving and July 4th in the same breath.  And now that I consider it, there's a reason for that.  There's something to be thankful for on July 4th for all of us in this battered, confused, and suddenly hopeful nation.  July 4th is really a holiday of gratitude, and I am grateful.  

Let's make some potato salad together on Friday, dear listener--you and me.  And some white sangria, I think.  I'll give you my recipe on the air.  It's great at a picnic, with fireworks.