America, 250 Years — What Do We Have To Celebrate?
Another Fourth of July. Another day with the family. Brisket or pulled pork and of course a few racks of ribs. Maybe some good Kentucky bourbon. Bourbon always helps survive the family.
That’s just Grandpa sitting over there. The kids are giving free advice. Eat the food — it’s great — but don’t you dare say anything like “well, how about that Trump.” Don’t you dare. Or I’ll short sheet you when we get home.
Good advice? Who knows. What I do know is that if more young ones actually talked to us old farts things might have turned out a little differently. Don’t get me wrong — we don’t have all the answers. But we do have the experience. What they are taught in school we lived through. Maybe we are old. Maybe we are a little less observant when we fart. But maybe — just maybe — we can offer some decent advice.
Let me take a detour.
When I was younger — maybe 60 years ago — my father might have said something along the lines of “you have a lot to learn about women.” I’m sure I nodded back. Yeah right, Dad. I already know about women. I know the important stuff — like candy is dandy but liquor is quicker. All the knowledge of relationships condensed to one phrase.
Here I am. Married five times. Last wife takes up spots three, four and five.
Maybe I should have sat down with Dad and actually had that conversation.
Where was I? Right. July 4th.
The big neighborhood fireworks are now illegal because we don’t want Johnny blowing his fingers off and setting the town on fire like last year. But there are major fireworks this year. The Trump Show. A circus in his honor dressed up as a 250 year celebration. All paid for by — guess who. Yes. Us.
We are paying for his campaign rally.
And to add insult to injury — he plagiarized the organization established to actually plan the party. America250 existed. Trump created Freedom250 and redirected the money. One hundred and fifty million dollars allocated in his big beautiful bill. He gave the original America250 fifty million and sent the other hundred million to his own organization. He doesn’t have to disclose how it’s spent until 2027.
He’s hoping we don’t ask.
So here we are. Celebrating what exactly? America’s 250th birthday with cage fights on the White House grounds?
Here I sit with bourbon in one hand and a sparkler in the other mumbling what the fuck — and my kids are giving me the stare. Don’t talk like that in front of the children.
My reply: where do you think I learned it?
Gone is the neighborhood barbecue at the park. Now it’s a no kings rally at the intersection. Gone is the short spirited inspiring speech about the cost of freedom. Now it’s another dementia screening dressed up as a victory march for the only living genius — the greatest of all time. Gone is the tug of war between families. Now it’s an embarrassing cage fight on White House grounds.
And who bought stock in TKO Group Holdings — the owners of UFC?
Do you really need me to spell it out?
Why doesn’t the Fourth feel grand anymore? Why has the party died before it really started?
Well. If you will actually stop and listen to an old man you might find he has something worth hearing. Some experience. Some wisdom.
You do have to tolerate the occasional fart.
We know what happened to the chickens that just complained — they got fried crispy. Thank God lamb isn’t a big Fourth of July tradition. I’m not sure they could survive another fleecing.
And maybe — just maybe — the French will show up. Polish their statue. And demonstrate how they solved their particular problem. One slice of French bread at a time.
