Post-Fourth Ruminations

The lack of a computer over the last 5 days of vacation put this blog to a griding halt, and now I'm back at work, so this will just be a quick blast of commentary for my own sake more than yours.

Supposedly, Sam Walton's wife told him years ago to never open a store in a big city. She couldn't stand the idea of living in a town of more than 10,000 people -- at the most. I've come to realize than I possess the opposite desire. The idea of living in a tiny little town, or spending more than a few days in one, creates a creeping sense of dread and impending boredom in me. Of course, having friends nearby helps. And I guess I can see the alure to some folks, but as for me, I think I'd prefer never to live in a city smaller than Asheville. About 74,000 people, I think. No wonder I hate Wal-Mart.

Baltimore's public transit sucks. I mean, really. And this is from a guy who avidly supports transit. The buses run 40 minutes apart, the light rail closes up shop far too early, and the Web site is absolutely terrible and uninformative.

Went to the Roland Park 4th of July parade. Got there a little late and found the grandstand empty while John Phillip Souza blasted from the loud speakers. The parade had already moved one, looking as if the rich white folks had finally decided to take back the streets in a lolling blaze of red white and blue glory. The mass of children, dogs, bikes, small cars and stollers wound down the Avenue to one of the churches, where bomb pops and water bottles were handed out for free, like a bunch of America-hating socialists. I have never done drugs in my life, but if ever there was a time when chemicals could have enhanced an event ... at elast there was a dog wearing a flag bandana.