Life at the End of the World

Patriotism is getting to be less and less fun. Today is basically a celebration of the United States trading one set of greedy aristocrats for another, which is hard to get over whipped up about. If you doubt it, watch the 1985 movie "Revolution" starring Al Pacino. That movie gives an historically accurate view of what it was like to fight in the Revolutionary War from the point of view of a conscript. Many of the soldiers were never properly paid. Much of their property was seized in the service of the revolution (this happens in virtually all revolutions), and although the British are portrayed as vile, the rich colonists are not all that lovely either.

It's the working stiffs and the farmers and the tradesmen who get it stuck to them, but you wouldn't know it from the way our history is written.

We're having a quiet Fourth of July here. Burgers on the grill, corn on the cob, just me, significant other, the dog, and the cat. It's overcast and cool up here today: It's been a cool summer so far, which is fine by me. I'm no fan of 95 degree weather, and the garden seems to be doing pretty well even with 65-79 degree highs so far most days. We'll get a hot spell some week or two here, and then it will already be time for winter to start gathering steam. Summer in Michigan apparently is just a gesture, a nod to the climate gods. At least, that's how it's been the two years I've been living here.

I guess we'll go watch fireworks tonight.

This year, I guess I'm not into the 4th very intensely. Can you tell?

Storms today, and I was on a road trip south to visit my eldest daughter, who recently broke her right hand and needed some help for the day. I didn't mind being on the road with lightening all around. I love storms.

I had this weird dream the other night about a ghost train. I was on this abandoned commuter train heading through a decaying cityscape. No people anywhere to be seen. The train slows to stop in front of a huge plantation-type home which is also in the process of accelerated decay. No people there either. About this time, I realize I am somewhat disembodied myself, in the sense that I have awareness but it doesn't seem attached to anything corporeal. Can't look at my hands or feet. Don't seem to have any hands or feet or, well, anything.

Terrified I head for the train again (whatever it is I am). I catch it just before it pulls back out, winding through the dead city again, past a port with no boats no people, past an outlying area with no people, and finally it slows to a stop.

I get out. I'm at the house again, this time in a state of even more advanced decay.

I kept thinking about this dream the next day, and I remembered a Twilight Zone episode that followed this basic plot more or less, except the gimmick at the end was that it was a kid's train set and the guy trapped in this situation was a toy of sorts. Everything in that version was perfect but the tip-off was, no people. Everything in my dream was spectral and desolate, very scary, empty, weird.

In other news, unemployment hit 14.1% here last week.

Yikes.

Maybe I can still catch that train...