40 on the 4th

If put to the test, I'd die for my country.  This is the land of the free and of the weird.  Sure, I would rather spend my summers in Europe to attend music festivals since America is very conservative musically. But wtf, it's a big country with lots to see and do.  but the 4th of July really does not mean much to me in the middle of the week when it is 100+F outside.  My best operating temperatures are between 55 and 77F.  I can always put on a long sleeve shirt or a jacket and blue jeans and boots.  Sweating when all I am doing is pumping blood and breathing at rest is not my favorite thing to do.

I had plans for this day.  I planned to get up early and ride to Martinsdale.  Justin no longer puts on 40 on the 4th so I got to do it myself.  But I slept in.  then everyone wanted breakfast.  So I got up, put two trays of bacon in the oven and Mary scrambled eggs.  After feasting on this and 3 slices of toast I swallowed 3 Claratin and went back to bed.  Dreamt of seeing New Order live and Gillian smiled at me.  But I had to get up.  Hot now.

After much thought I realised that I was behind on my caffeine intake.  So I grabbed the Raleigh and purchased a 2 lt of Coke and another of Diet Dew.  I drank half the Coke and then visited my mother for an hour.  A stop at Hy Vee for cat food, the cats were hungry, and its 4 pm.

I thought about driving to Bonderant for the Chicaqua Trail but my family would want to eat soon.  Called Joe Bridgeman but he was sticking near home.  Fuck.  Too hot anyway.

Back to bed listening to Teen Mom on Netflicks.  At some people are more fucked than me. 

Mary's dinner selection of the ingredients we have at home was grim.  I hit the red button.  "Get a couple of Pepsi 2lts and 4 pizzas from Lil Ceasars.  It's the 4th of July, as Americans we are supposed to eat shit!"  So it was.  Family fed.  Gave me time to catch New Order and Orbital webstream live from Poland, and everyone came home and ate.

As evening hit us it was time for the traditional viewing of fireworks.  In Little Italy, we have the best view.  Travel half a mile to the river and stake a claim on the pedestrian bridge.  Mary and Dora walked there.  I waited and grabbed the Raleigh.  It was the bike I rode to get caffeine earlier.

The Raleigh is becoming my holiday bicycle.  It was my choice on New Years Day.  Seemed fitting that on the birthday of our nation that I plant my ass on a British bicycle with a genuine Brooks saddle.  I paid $40 for it.  And I stopped at Best Trip and purchased a 40oz of Busch Light from a cashier from India.

I spotted my family on the bridge and joined them.  We had a blanket to sit on.  The fireworks were to begin after the Iowa Cubs baseball game.  Many people brought their own fireworks to this bridge and to the adjacent Scott Avenue bridge, home of the fishing people.  In fact, amature fireworks could be seen in every direction.  And professional ones too.  This is the one American holiday that cops turn their backs and people create explosions.  It is also perfectly acceptable to have children toss spent sparklers into the river.

Dora during camera test

We were on the northern border of Little Italy.  The people on this pedestrian bridge were a mix of Asian, Africans and whites.  The longer we waited the more I expected to see cameras for MTV's Teen Mom The Follow Up Years.  But it was if everyone smoked.  Now many of my friends smoke.  I understand that they have an addiction, a disease that is difficult to cure.  And if it gets to smokey I leave.  Tonight we gave up and went home.  Fuck it.  If I get cancer it will be from something I enjoy.  Breathing other people's unnecessary exhaust is not something I enjoy.  Man up and put a Skoal Bandit between your toes instead of killing those around you.