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HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!

nycfan said:
A genuine and heart-felt Happy Independence Day to all who celebrate, especially those who are down about recent events.

The USA has been through pretty extreme political ebbs and flows over the last two and a half centuries, but if you plotted it as a scatter graph the direction has always been toward the best ideals of our founding and toward the future.

Independence Day Happy 4Th Of July GIF
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Rhyming Leonardo Dicaprio GIF

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without apology to Lee Greenwood...

And I'm proud to be an American where at least I know I'm free ( for now )
And I won't forget the men who died, who gave that right to me ( but surviving vets ? meh... )
And I'd gladly stand up next to you and defend her still today ( but from fascism ? meh... )
'Cause there ain't no doubt I love this land ( depending upon whether there will be a white majority )
God bless the USA ( here's hoping She is willing )
 
The 4th of July isn't about MAGA or Trump or the idiots in Congress. It's about reaching for the - just out of reach - Jeffersonian ideals of the enlightenment. It's a celebration of Benjamin Franklin and the other members of the committee of five. It's about the Second Continental Congress and the risk of life, estate, and the futures of all stakeholders by everyone associated with the rebellion against the British empire. It's a day to celebrate the will to stand up against tyranny. Happy Independence Day.
 
You guys have cheered me a bit this 4th. Thank you.

I closed my business today because I didn't want to engage in the faux Fourth patriotic b.s. Honestly, I'm not too proud to be an American these days. Trump and his ilk have made a mockery of this country. My mind this day is on the innocent, hard-working human beings snatched off the streets and sent to concentration camps. It is with the poor, sick, and marginalized who have suffered greatly, and will suffer even more, under this evil and lawless government. My fervent hope is that this country becomes one that cares about its people and welcomes the visitor. Let freedom ring, please?
 
I’m in Spain - this afternoon I was talking to a Catalonian couple. We started off with them asking me if I was Ingles/English. I replied that I was Estadounidense. Continuing I added that I spoke Español. In Spanish they asked did I speak Catalan (we’re in a city outside of Barcelona, which is in Catalonia)? I said no and then trying to joke a bit, I said that I actually spoke “Chapin,” knowing I’d have to explain that meant that I spoke Guatemalan Spanish. They said good. I apologized for not speaking Catalan (It IS intriguing - to the eye it is pretty easy to read once you get a few words down-I’ve only heard it at length on tv and find it fairly difficult to understand though not completely unintelligible).

The man in the couple then said that he knew it was Independence Day in the U.S. I said I didn’t plan to celebrate (I did read the Declaration this morning and listen to The Battle Hymn of The Republic in honor of the date).

So Spanish it is and the man then points out that Cataluña had voted for its independence back in 2017 but the “Spanish” had denied them - the woman then added that the police were sent in “con mucha fuerza” and violence to put that movement down. I knew vague things about this.

The man said, “You should be glad for your independence.” The woman added that she was aware that it was threatened these days by a dictator in trump.

I told them what I thought. It was a very interesting interchange.

I’m not sure what I think - need to think a bit more.
 
A friend of mine taught in Barcelona for a while. It is indeed in Catalonia and there are a lot of Catalans who take that shit very seriously. Like they want to secede and form their own country, or at least form a semi-autonomous region within Spain. Public signs were in Spanish and Catalan.

My friend found Catalan very hard to learn and never really did. He didn't really speak much Spanish before going, so he was learning Spanish and only became fluent near the end of his stay. Catalan might have too much on top of that, which obviously wouldn't be a problem for you. But he was also much younger. . .
 
I'm glad celebrating the 4th of July is a bigger deal than when I was growing up. Where I grew up, Eastern NC, the 4th of July was usually just about when cropping tobacco started in earnest. And when it did, it was all hands on deck. For the biggest local employer, the pickle plant, the 4th of July historically marked the largest single day in terms of cucumbers arriving at the plant. And those cucumbers had to be in brine within hours. Where I grew up, during the summer, growing/cropping tobacco, growing/picking cucumbers, and pickling cucumbers represented a pretty large slice of the summer employment sector. Growing cotton really wasn't revived until I was in my 20's and the strategy of flooding fields with sterile male boll weevils made growing cotton economical, as sterile male boll weevils were way cheaper than all the pesticides otherwise needed. For these and other reasons, pretty much all the stores were open, with regular hours. The Post Office was the only real closure I remember. My Dad's store never closed on the 4th. That evening after his store closed and all us kids (7) got home from our summer jobs, we would have watermelon on the picnic table in the side yard. But that was just about it. And it was an early evening, as pretty much everyone had to be back at their jobs the next day, unless that next day was a Sunday. By the time I was in my late teens, the town started having fireworks the night of the 4th. I actually don't know if things have changed in Eastern NC, but I hope they have.
 
donbosco said:
I’m in Spain - this afternoon I was talking to a Catalonian couple. We started off with them asking me if I was Ingles/English. I replied that I was Estadounidense. Continuing I added that I spoke Español. In Spanish they asked did I speak Catalan (we’re in a city outside of Barcelona, which is in Catalonia)? I said no and then trying to joke a bit, I said that I actually spoke “Chapin,” knowing I’d have to explain that meant that I spoke Guatemalan Spanish. They said good. I apologized for not speaking Catalan (It IS intriguing - to the eye it is pretty easy to read once you get a few words down-I’ve only heard it at length on tv and find it fairly difficult to understand though not completely unintelligible).

The man in the couple then said that he knew it was Independence Day in the U.S. I said I didn’t plan to celebrate (I did read the Declaration this morning and listen to The Battle Hymn of The Republic in honor of the date).

So Spanish it is and the man then points out that Cataluña had voted for its independence back in 2017 but the “Spanish” had denied them - the woman then added that the police were sent in “con mucha fuerza” and violence to put that movement down. I knew vague things about this.

The man said, “You should be glad for your independence.” The woman added that she was aware that it was threatened these days by a dictator in trump.

I told them what I thought. It was a very interesting interchange.

I’m not sure what I think - need to think a bit more.
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Also, this is off-topic but I'm curious about something. Do Guatemalans have a distinctive physical appearance? I was watching highlights of the US-Guatemala Gold Cup match and, with a couple of exceptions, it seemed to me that a lot of the players looked Guatemalan to me. Which matters not at all, of course, but I don't think of Costa Ricans and Panamanians as looking different, or other Central American countries. Is it that Guatemala always had a larger indigenous population that intermixed more with the Europeans or Mexicans and so the gene pool is distinctive? Was I just subject to confirmation bias, where they looked Guatemalan to me because I knew I was watching Guatemala?

Just curious. For some reason I find it interesting. Southerners, for instance, have a distinctive look compared to notherners. Not everyone of course, but it's also not merely cultural. At least I don't think so. I've been told by people that they can distinguish Alabamans from South Carolinians, though I've always been skeptical of that. But Midwesterners also have a particular appearance, probably because of a lot of Scandinavian genes and a lot less African. And of course French people look distinctively French, for reasons I don't entirely understand but I can always pick out the Frenchman in a crowd. A white Frenchman.
 
05C40 said:
I'm glad celebrating the 4th of July is a bigger deal than when I was growing up. Where I grew up, Eastern NC, the 4th of July was usually just about when cropping tobacco started in earnest. And when it did, it was all hands on deck. For the biggest local employer, the pickle plant, the 4th of July historically marked the largest single day in terms of cucumbers arriving at the plant. And those cucumbers had to be in brine within hours. Where I grew up, during the summer, growing/cropping tobacco, growing/picking cucumbers, and pickling cucumbers represented a pretty large slice of the summer employment sector. Growing cotton really wasn't revived until I was in my 20's and the strategy of flooding fields with sterile male boll weevils made growing cotton economical, as sterile male boll weevils were way cheaper than all the pesticides otherwise needed. For these and other reasons, pretty much all the stores were open, with regular hours. The Post Office was the only real closure I remember. My Dad's store never closed on the 4th. That evening after his store closed and all us kids (7) got home from our summer jobs, we would have watermelon on the picnic table in the side yard. But that was just about it. And it was an early evening, as pretty much everyone had to be back at their jobs the next day, unless that next day was a Sunday. By the time I was in my late teens, the town started having fireworks the night of the 4th. I actually don't know if things have changed in Eastern NC, but I hope they have.
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It’s interesting that you describe how the 4th was an important working day when you were a kid. My family here in WNC tell stories of their childhoods where a lot of businesses (led by textile mills & then the associated businesses) closed the entire week of the 4th and workers were put on mandatory (read: unpaid) time off for the week. They often took small vacations to visit other family members during this week or they’d simply take the week a bit easier (meaning that they only had to do farm work rather than the farm + regular jobs). The local VFW made a big deal out of the 4th with a cookout, games for kids, and a recognition of veterans (particularly remembering the local ones from the Revolutionary War). My mom’s side, in particular, grew up fairly poor & the 4th was the one holiday they really celebrated beyond Easter & Christmas.
 
SnoopRob said:
It’s interesting that you describe how the 4th was an important working day when you were a kid. My family here in WNC tell stories of their childhoods where a lot of businesses (led by textile mills & then the associated businesses) closed the entire week of the 4th and workers were put on mandatory (read: unpaid) time off for the week. They often took small vacations to visit other family members during this week or they’d simply take the week a bit easier (meaning that they only had to do farm work rather than the farm + regular jobs). The local VFW made a big deal out of the 4th with a cookout, games for kids, and a recognition of veterans (particularly remembering the local ones from the Revolutionary War). My mom’s side, in particular, grew up fairly poor & the 4th was the one holiday they really celebrated beyond Easter & Christmas.
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Yeah, what you wrote actually sparked a memory that I hadn't thought about in a long time. I do remember hearing about how textile plants and furniture plants would shut down the entire week of the 4th, unless you were a maintenance worker. And the maintenance workers were pulling 12 and 18 hour days that week doing annual/big maintenance on all the equipment. And regular production workers felt themselves privileged if they were called in to be common laborers assisting the maintenance workers during the annual, week-long, 4th shutdown. It's as if the 4th was just a pretext for picking the one week a year the plant had to be shutdown for annual maintenance and installation of new equipment. It was like workers looked forward to the week of the 4th as an opportunity to really rack-up some overtime.
 
The Guatemalan soccer team is pretty mestizo, as in with an ancestry of White/Indigenous. Guys who make it to that level of sports tend to be at least ever-so-white and bigger than the straight-up Mayan population, who are short (sometimes very short) and broad-shouldered. I've got a buddy there who is full-blooded Kakchikel-Maya and about 5-5 and pretty muscular. He was a triathlete for a while. I've always thought that Guatemala was missing out not recruiting guys like him for international cycling competitions. But of course that would mean that the white supremacist elites would have to admit that the Maya are human first (I exaggerate but there are indeed still ruling class Guatemalans who think that way).
 
05C40 said:
I'm glad celebrating the 4th of July is a bigger deal than when I was growing up. Where I grew up, Eastern NC, the 4th of July was usually just about when cropping tobacco started in earnest. And when it did, it was all hands on deck. For the biggest local employer, the pickle plant, the 4th of July historically marked the largest single day in terms of cucumbers arriving at the plant. And those cucumbers had to be in brine within hours. Where I grew up, during the summer, growing/cropping tobacco, growing/picking cucumbers, and pickling cucumbers represented a pretty large slice of the summer employment sector. Growing cotton really wasn't revived until I was in my 20's and the strategy of flooding fields with sterile male boll weevils made growing cotton economical, as sterile male boll weevils were way cheaper than all the pesticides otherwise needed. For these and other reasons, pretty much all the stores were open, with regular hours. The Post Office was the only real closure I remember. My Dad's store never closed on the 4th. That evening after his store closed and all us kids (7) got home from our summer jobs, we would have watermelon on the picnic table in the side yard. But that was just about it. And it was an early evening, as pretty much everyone had to be back at their jobs the next day, unless that next day was a Sunday. By the time I was in my late teens, the town started having fireworks the night of the 4th. I actually don't know if things have changed in Eastern NC, but I hope they have.
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I "pulled" tobacco for exactly ONE day. In Southside Virginia it was (is?) the number one crop in the 1970s. I needed souvenir money for a family vacation trip my parents had planned. After some urging from a wiffleball (that's another story) buddy, I figured I'd give it a shot. After all, I received no allowance and I really needed the money.

I got to the farm the next morning with a small thermos of water. It had rained the night before. The plants' leaves were wet and the sandy soil was sticky. We pulled (unattached) the bottom leaves off the plants. We placed the wet, sticky leaves on a flatbed to be taken back to the barns. The sun was blazing with no shade. The only break was lunch. Temperatures climbed through the day and peaked at 101 degrees.

Towards the end of the day, the workers went back to the barns where the flatbeds were parked. The leaves, which had been sitting in the shade all day, were still wet and sticky. We had to push them into metal racks. The racks weighed between 50 to 75 pounds. Once filled, the racks had to be placed in the curing barn. This process involved lifting the heavy racks overhead and sliding them onto runner tracks in the barn. This task was completed in a dehydrated state after many hours in 100+ degree sunlight.

After the long, long day was over, I went home. My parents were out that night; so, I was on my own. I hungrily snarfed down a large pizza. I drank TWO two-liter Pepsis and FIFTEEN large glasses of water. Afterward, I layed my tired, sunburned body on the bed and wished for death. I swore in my pain that I would never pull tobacco again.

When my friend called the next day asking if I wanted to work, I said "no". I mumbled that I had enough souvenir spending money for my trip.

Later that year, I got what might be the best job of my life - a paper route. I now had a regular flow of money and I didn't have to risk my well-being for it. While the tobacco workers toiled in terrible conditions and ran through their earnings early in the school year, I breezed by with an ever available stash of cash.

And so went my career as a puller of tobacco ....
 
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I guess a veggie burger is a bridge too far?
A veggie burger with a British beer?
Too far?
How about a gin tonic with Beefeaters?
Too far?

Just listened to James Earl Jones on NPR reciting Fredrick Douglas’ speech on the 4th of July.

That and Trump’s big beautiful bill has me wanting to display my smallish American flag upside down.

I’ll get over it.

I’ll end with something more American-positive.
It was on July 4th 1986 I was busking the streets of Bern Switzerland, playing Bluegrass. I was with another American and two Dutchies from Holland, who looked and sounded every bit as American as I did, especially when they played the banjo and the double bass on Foggy Mtn Breakdown and Rocky Top.

We were seen by some folks who worked at the U.S. Embassy there in Bern. The Ambassador at the time was Faith Whittlesey appointed by Reagan. She hired us to play their big July 4th celebration there at the Embassy. Bunch of big wigs hobbnobbing around eating BBQ, hotdogs and hamburgers drinking wine and champagne.

We hit ‘Em with our best shot of Country Roads, Dueling Banjos, and Fox on the Run… amongst our other greatest hits. We ate and drank with ‘Em and got paid in Swiss Francs. Ol’ Faith wrote us a glowing thank you letter on her Ambassador’s letterhead. A letter of recommendation and endorsing us and our musical abilities. I can’t find the actual letter but I’ve got the quote from it and still use it to this day as a tool to get gigs.

Happy Independence Day America…
You too ‘Murikkka
 
UNCMSinLS said:
I "pulled" tobacco for exactly ONE day. In Southside Virginia it was (is?) the number one crop in the 1970s. I needed souvenir money for a family vacation trip my parents had planned. After some urging from a wiffleball (that's another story) buddy, I figured I'd give it a shot. After all, I received no allowance and I really needed the money.

I got to the farm the next morning with a small thermos of water. It had rained the night before. The plants' leaves were wet and the sandy soil was sticky. We pulled (unattached) the bottom leaves off the plants. We placed the wet, sticky leaves on a flatbed to be taken back to the barns. The sun was blazing with no shade. The only break was lunch. Temperatures climbed through the day and peaked at 101 degrees.

Towards the end of the day, the workers went back to the barns where the flatbeds were parked. The leaves, which had been sitting in the shade all day, were still wet and sticky. We had to push them into metal racks. The racks weighed between 50 to 75 pounds. Once filled, the racks had to be placed in the curing barn. This process involved lifting the heavy racks overhead and sliding them onto runner tracks in the barn. This task was completed in a dehydrated state after many hours in 100+ degree sunlight.

After the long, long day was over, I went home. My parents were out that night; so, I was on my own. I hungrily snarfed down a large pizza. I drank TWO two-liter Pepsis and FIFTEEN large glasses of water. Afterward, I layed my tired, sunburned body on the bed and wished for death. I swore in my pain that I would never pull tobacco again.

When my friend called the next day asking if I wanted to work, I said "no". I mumbled that I had enough souvenir spending money for my trip.

Later that year, I got what might be the best job of my life - a paper route. I now had a regular flow of money and I didn't have to risk my well-being for it. While the tobacco workers toiled in terrible conditions and ran through their earnings early in the school year, I breezed by with an ever available stash of cash.

And so went my career as a puller of tobacco ....
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You definitely made the correct call on working tobacco. Without doubt, absolutely worst job I ever had in my entire life. The only thing remotely positive I can say about working tobacco is that I didn't come down with Green Tobacco Sickness, hallmark symptom - throwing up, followed by dry heaves - because my mother was a chain smoker and my body was accustomed to nicotine exposure.
 
05C40 said:
You definitely made the correct call on working tobacco. Without doubt, absolutely worst job I ever had in my entire life. The only thing remotely positive I can say about working tobacco is that I didn't come down with Green Tobacco Sickness, hallmark symptom - throwing up, followed by dry heaves - because my mother was a chain smoker and my body was accustomed to nicotine exposure.
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Yikes. I knew nothing about "Green Tobacco Sickness". But, then again, seemingly everyone in Southside Virginia smoked at the time. We had a "Smoking Porch" at my high school. If you had permission from your parents, you could smoke there. The place was always hopping with kids lighting up.
 
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