In any event, I don't particularly like the Fourth of July. As I remarked last year,
Another meaningless holiday in progress. Really, now: celebrate the semiformalistic declaration of a war that had been in progress for seven months and wouldn't be over for seven years? That's sort of like celebrating the filing of Brown v. Board of Education instead of the dates the decisions were issued—particularly since the Declaration of Independence is only modestly reflected in the Constitution. In fact, I'd propose replacing the Fourth of July with a date based upon the Constitution (either its signing or the date it came into effect), except that the barbecue weather is a helluva lot better in early July.
Pardon me a moment. I've gone vegetarian for the barbecue again, and I've got to go shove him back in the marinade—he seems to have an aversion to Asian pear juice. At least the dogs help clean up the floor when he gets the cover off that tub…
The thing I dislike the most about holiday weekends, particularly out here away from any major metropolitan area, is that one really can't get emergency service, particularly for cars. At various times in the past, I've struggled with trying to get a car to the body shop after it got hit by a deer the day before Thanksgiving; blowing a head gasket the Tuesday before Thanksgiving; smoking a transmission on 02 July; blowing a tire on Columbus Day; and frying an alternator three days before Easter. (No, that wasn't all the same car!) At least in a major metropolitan area somebody will tend to be open for emergency repairs. So far this year I've been lucky. The way the locals drive on big drinking barbecue weekends around here, though, I expect to be waiting over at Diamond Automotive at 8 on Tuesday morning.