Stars and stripes, whatever

I must say that yesterday was the most unenthusiastic Fourth of July I have witnessed in my many years. I walked around the neighborhood a little and saw just one flag displayed, where normally there would have been a dozen. Leafing through the New York Times, I looked forward to the back page, which on every Independence Day has been an image of the original Declaration of Independence. It wasn't there.

We had a classic feast off the barbecue. The potato salad was like your grandmother's, celery and all. The strawberry shortcake was done to perfection. But the day itself was cast in a shadow. 

People of a liberal persuasion are in mourning for what has become of the Supreme Court. The hearings on the Trump insurrection, and the unwillingness of anyone in the criminal justice system to take action against Orange Caligula himself, have been deeply depressing. The chicanery being set up for future elections is a terrifying omen for our democracy. The gloom cannot be brushed off.

The only positive moment was when some friends showed up to collect signatures for the gun control ballot measure. They picked up three at our place. It looks like they have enough to get the measure on the ballot. But they shouldn't have needed to be doing that. The fact that they had to was a stinging indictment of our failing state government.

Being colonies of England was bad, but where we're going may be worse. Be still for a minute, and you can feel it coming. You wonder how many Fourths of July this country has left.