O, Beautiful for...

I had a dream last night that I was driving down the Mass Pike when all of a sudden it was taken over (the whole highway) by terrorists from a drug cartel and I was pulled from my car and shot. My friend EP assures me that was a nightmare, not a dream.

In any case, I think that it was a premonition of the traffic nightmare that I was to experience this morning. It would be nice, oh construction workers on Commonwealth Avenue, if you had warned the general public that there was no access to the BU bridge from Comm Ave eastbound today. My colleague Honkycat and I commiserated over our disastrous drives in this morning over a cup of Pete's. Needed the strong stuff to get the day going after terrorists and traffic.

I am not terribly excited about the Fourth of July this year. At one point yesterday, I actually wished that the US was still part of the UK. I am so proud to be an American and appreciate the opportunities that my family received by coming here from Ireland and from Eastern Europe. And I am proud to be a Bostonian, part of a strong tradition of independence. But this whole Scooter Libby sentence thing has me disheartened (heck, even Paris Hilton served her time) as does the war in Iraq. Even Michael Moore's new film, Sicko, is depressing me. And all the crime in Boston of late doesn't make me feel any better. Just yesterday, I saw someone being arrested in the parking lot at Whole Foods!

Where is the America of yesteryear? The one with tickertape parades and local heroes and the hometown team winning the state championship and neighbors being neighborly and kids selling lemonade on the sidewalk? Did that ever really exist or was that just part of the Eisenhower propaganda?

Of course, I am sure that once I see the fireworks and hear the music of the Boston Pops tomorrow, my spirits will lift, and I will believe again, even if it is just for an evening. And I won't even mind because that feeling is so worth it.