What a cold bath is July 5th. (Except for Mom. Happy birthday, Mom!) I spent all day yesterday lounging about a lake and drinking Coronas, arguably the most American beer. Freedom seemed another word for nothing left to do, and America seemed poised in the catbird seat of history. Just one day later I am back to work, and the catbird seats seems more like a chair with an actual cat and a bird in it—in a word, discomfiting. Today is Friday, and reality intrudes. Won’t you pause to remember the fireworks, then return to packing your child’s finger in ice with me?
Tag Archives: silva
Friday links! Impossibility of perspective edition
I am dogsitting my excellent nephew in the South Hills today, and the smoke is so thick I cannot see the mountains. Hell, I can’t see the grocery store at the bottom of the hill. The Sawtooth fire has covered Missoula in a rich musk, equal parts wood smoke and singed squirrel. In addition to creating some really excellent lighting effects and possibly damaging my lungs, the smoke creates an atmosphere of isolation. Even more than usual, the broad view is impossible. Today is Friday, and none of us can see too far in front of his own nose. Won’t you revel in subjectivity with me?