Your guide to not enjoying the July fourth holiday

For starters, whatever you do, DO NOT take photos of the fireworks.

No corndogs, lemonade, elephant ears, caramel corn or Italian sausage sandwiches. And absolutely no funnel cakes or gyros or hot dogs. And especially no pulled pork sandwiches from those shady Chamber of Commerce guys.

NO SNO-CONES.

Skeeball? Off limits. Whac-a-Mole. Keep moving. No Bottle Ring Toss for you.

Steer clear of the Scrambler and the Tilt-A-Whirl and the Sky Fighter. No, you can't wiggle down the Crazy Slide, laugh in the Fun House or fly in Haley's Comet.

By no means should you sit around with your buddies and upend an ice cold can of PBR while all those leggy girls go by in their halters and cut-offs.

Now please do not yell at the kids for stealing an extra ice cream sandwich and eating it as they trace crazy designs against the sky with their dollar store sparklers.

And to reiterate: don't take photos of the fireworks. Don't worry about trying to capture the perfect explosions and cascades of color and light on film while you lay on your back on a soft blanket with the scent of grilled burgers and grass all around, the camera idle by your side.

Whatever you do, don't let it slip away. And don't you dare lament those tears when you realize it will slip away no matter how tightly you clutch it.

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Early Christmas present to myself that should have been made in America

So it's Black Friday and I have absolutely no intention of going anywhere that sells Too Much Crap and I'm curled on the couch with my laptop poking around Al Gore's Interwebs when an email from World Market appears in my inbox. The eclectic retailer is offering me their fabulous Chocolate Faux Fur Throw for the unbelievably low price of $29.99--half off the original price of $59.99--for one day only. I looked down at the ratty throw swaddled around my miserable self.

Click. Click. Click.

I never want to set this blankie down. I alternately want to clutch it next to my cheek whilst dragging it around the house like a four year old, then remove all of my clothing and burrow beneath it with my splendid king (or just by myself) and engage in carnal activity. (Yes, I realize that is a disturbing juxtaposition, but it allowed me to use the word juxtaposition and I don't give up a windfall like that easily.)

Every. Woman. In. America. wants one of these throws.

Hence, you can imagine my disappointment when I discovered the throw was "Made in China." Why oh why is it so? After all, every American woman wants one. Don't believe me? See above--IT SAYS SO RIGHT THERE. Every American woman should have one. And yes, I see you out there trying, but you're going to have to do better than 400 clams (although you get points for the oversizing). We're talking EVERY American woman.

I suspect this post may inspire some purchases and don't get me wrong, I do not begrudge World Market or their Chinese manufacturer their due sales. After all, this is a terrific product at a terrific price (worth every nickel of the full $60 retail price). But before any of you boppers out there go click click click, know that the fur is on just one side of the throw. The other side is a plush brown fabric, which is also cuddly, but not as yummy as the fur side. To my would-be American manufacturer however: please do oversize and make both sides fur. Yes, I'll pay a little more.

Aha! I see you're getting closer and closer ... 

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American splendor

So you pass under the arch announcing the Santa Monica pier and stroll upon its thick timbers past the hot dog stands and guys fishing and skeeball booths. Kids lick ice cream cones and point at the old indoor carousel. Carnival-style facades, with their gingerbread and racing lights, hide oily compressors and pulley works. The trickery does not fool you, but you let it fill the world with possibility nonetheless--if only for a night.

The lazy Ferris wheel traces circles of light amid the roller coaster and the Scrambler, which looks exactly like the one that thrilled you some 35 years ago in a humble park 2400 miles away from where you stand right now. You sigh.

"Come on, kid, let's ride the Ferris wheel."

And then you float up into the purest American ether, with the Pacific breeze billowing your hair and its waters rolling far below. You ride the vertical circle to its crest. The Santa Monica mountains sculpt the horizon before you as the ocean reaches for the end of the world behind you. You sink down. The dusky sky illuminates the bluffs of Santa Monica as they nobly define the western edge of this troubled and beautiful land.

You travel again and again around this ethereal circumference. The three other people in the gondola, to whom you are so deeply connected that even the word love seems inadequate, swoon along with you.

The smooth glory rolls on until it comes to an end in our realm of time, but you will carry it deep inside you from now on. In doing so, you quietly defy your mortality. The tears well inside of you. The American dream spills over you.

You realize you have never understood the word rare until this moment.

My little corner of the world

The Goat circa 1971

Sometimes when I'm ranting and bellyaching about something over which I have absolutely no control (I've had a lot of opportunity lately), the Goat will say (usually from behind the newspaper):

"All I can do is take care of my little corner of the world."

Genius, that.

If we all just took care of our little corner of the world, methinks the whole juggernaut would chug along a lot more smoothly. Hence in the interest of the Goat's subtle directive and because today seems like a good day to think about such things: I offer these suggestions:

-If you only take what you need, you'll always have enough.

-Failing to respect the convictions of others only diminishes the strength of your own.

-People have the right to free speech even when you don't like what they're saying.

-If you don't need it, don't buy it on credit.

-An American should support all his fellow Americans, including the ones with whom they disagree with most vehemently.

-If you really believe in your cross, flag or gun, you don't need to wave it around.

-The good guys win even when they lose.

Now I'm off to make pan zucchini (I should give you the recipe sometime), creamed potatoes and bread (the Goat's grilling the chicken).

To the esteemed readership, I bid a lovely Sunday afternoon.

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Made in America

My Lucky Bag from Down Home Leather: Made in America!

Our Our Cuddle Circle Lounge by Lazar Industries: Made in America!

My Sugar Magnolia jigsaw by Liberty Puzzles: Made in America!



Our giant couch from Huntington House: Made in America!

As indicated by the four exclamation points I've used in this post, you can tell I dig stuff made in in the good ol' USA, so drop on into the comment box and tell me about your favorite American made products.

And lastly a "Made in America" list of manufacturers courtesy of ABC News.

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