Monday, July 03, 2017


The Fourth of July: it's like Canada Day and Guy Fawkes rolled into one. This year it's a five or six day weekend for some people. Like every July Fourth since the dawn of time this blogger will largely ignore it. Wash my shirts. Have lunch or a tea-time snack in Chinatown. Sort of apathetically gaze at the sky after dark falls to admire multicoloured glow-poofs which are only vaguely discernible in the fog.

We are in San Francisco. Every year there are fireworks.
Other than the booming noises, it's a waste.

As far as outdoor barbecues are concerned, did I mention the fog?
I clearly referenced that fog, yes?

Part of the tradition here is watching the long line of parents with their keenly disappointed children tromping back from the wharf dejectedly along Polk Street, chilled to the bone and traumatized.

Worst Summer vacay ever!

We should have public bonfires instead. That way people could stay warm, enjoy a sense of closeness, and do their dogs and s'mores in the flames.

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