4 July, 2021: On the Bus.

 Yesterday was the 4th of July and for the first time in literally years, the fireworks were a part of my life. I actually had a good three day weekend. I had people in town and we went exploring. We ended up in San Francisco and then ended up and what turned out to be an entirely sanctioned (re: illegal) fireworks show that was one of the most chaotic and dangerous and American thing I have maybe ever seen. It is certainly on the list.

Probably it is just because we’re gradually coming out of the Quarantine, but I did experience an unusual wave contentedness and happiness about this big, dumb, messy country of ours. Just walking the streets of various cities, exploring new places, and seeing the weird and wonderful and frequently bad smelling mish-mash of people who actually are this country, it left me with a twinge of … I think “patriotism” is too weird of a word after the last few years … let’s go with “pride” … I felt a twinge of pride about this country.  At one point my little group of (fully vaccinated and masked) adventurers road a bus in SF and I really think that you will never get a better idea of what we really are as a population than riding a city bus. Low-key I looked at all the people and (what I could see of) their faces and — while no one was experiencing this emotion but me — I felt like we were part of a community; people who have survived the Pandemic, people who were all out in the city on a nice July 4th, people who were all on that bus at the same time, breathing the same air. Normally it would have been anxiety inducing, but this time — for the first time since early 2020 — it felt good again to be alive and out in the world. 

I have so many mixed feelings about what we have all gone through and my faith in humanity has been so devastatingly harmed by the way people behaved last year, but I suddenly became aware that sitting there on that bus yesterday heading down Haight to the botanical gardens, I was starting to heal a little. I like to hope that maybe every single one of us was.

.

.

.