Will Always Be an Exit Nine Guy

You already know it's the actual really and truly Fourth of July--the calendar told you that. And we Americans (how arrogant are we that we share this American continent with people from Canada and Mexico-not even mentioning the other American continent, but we are Americans and everyone else is, well, everyone else) can, I hope, find the time for one final reflection on who we are and how we got here (the good parts. We beat one another up waaay too often the rest of the year on who has warts and where they are. Let's have a truce, okay?).

I consider myself a Jersey Guy--I wasn't born there, but we moved there when I was very small and I moved away (not realizing it was forever) back in1975. Now, when I visit relatives (or did, before COVID 19 made leaving your porch a commando mission)--actually that's code for when I visit my brother, Adam (he went from being my 'baby' brother to 'youngest' brother until I, finally, realized he's fifty-four years of age and birth order is now difference without distinction) and his wife, I'm aware that 'this is not my Here' (because I've felt that everywhere I've been my whole life) but it is close to home and I think as uneasy citizens in a nation that's starting to fear it's outlived its usefulness, sometimes close can be good enough because it has to be.

Adam's much more a Renaissance Man than I. Decades ago he came up with a striking figure of speech, "snowglobe," to describe his piece of earth and by definition, all of our claims here (Frodo Lives! Just not around here). He found his Jersey Girl while I had to travel some to find mine, but I had a headstart and used it to my advantage.

I think it's amazing and amusing, with the space of years and distance combined with the differences in growing up, how each of us came to be who we are, where we are, and how similar the snowglobes we've made actually are. 

And, because if you've read me more than once, you know while you can take the boy out of Jersey, you can't take the Jersey out of the boy, you had to guess I'd quote Joyce Kilmer. Or not. 

'Sandy, the fireworks are hailin' over Little Eden tonight,
Forcin' a light into all those stoned-out faces left stranded on this Fourth of July.'
-bill kenny