Journal Day 55 (Entry 54)

Apparently there is a thing as "too much" sleep. I missed all of Sun's Day due to not waking up for it.
Independence Day.
I asked a couple of people what it meant. I was given two reasons, though I only choose to believe the first. I was told that it was the day this country became independent from another. I was also told it was the day Earth declared its dependence from the terrible slimy Space Lords who had the entire human race enslaved and were using them as ant farms for their children. I don't know what an ant farm is or why you would want one or why the Slime Lords' children would want human farms, but I do know the person who told me this knows nothing.
I went on a walk in the afternoon. I passed many hand-decorated signs declaring the location was "where the party was" and the ilk. There were garlands and ribbons and flags strung up everywhere and the whole town seemed to be arrayed in gaiety. I turned onto a small street that wound down into a ravine, over a river and up a steep hill. The houses were all small - trailers - and most were worse than dilapidated. At the bottom of the hill was a rusted, holey home with a sagging garage crudely constructed beside it. Outside this garage was a man in grey overalls and big goggles. He was leaning over the engine of a sleek white car. There were pieces and bits and tools strewn everywhere.
I asked the man why he was not celebrating his freedom like the rest of the country.
"Freedom?" he had laughed at me. It was not a kind laugh. "I live in a house that is too expensive and feed a family that is too large. I work a job that pays too little and fix cars in every waking moment of spare time so I can make ends meet; but only if I stretch and strain and struggle to do so.
"I cannot afford the gasoline to drive to a church who will not help support me in my need, though I help them when I am able. I haven't seen my parents in eight years because they believe I am living poorly and they are disappointed in me. My children have holes in their shoes and cannot get enough to eat and our government is so concerned with giving money to businesses they feel the need to jack up my taxes until I can barely afford to keep this trash heap."
I did not know what to say to this. I realized that not everyone is equal and there are those who are less fortunate than others. I also realized that not everyone who is not well off is as bitter as this man.
Later, when it had grown dark, I put a loaf of bread into his mail box.

The fourth of July. My senses tingle thinking of it. Pie and cake and barbecue and bread pudding and corn o' the cob and ice cream and fresh peas from the garden and baked beans and onions sautéed in white wine and cole slaw and tomato-onion salad.
After the sun grudgingly set there were fireworks to be seen. We sat on the front porch and watched as the horizon lit up with explosions. Bomb burst after bomb burst in a rainbow symphony of colour delighted and amazed us. The earth trembled beneath our feet with each torrent of thunder brought on by the rockets. Every now and again would be a lull and you could see the stars far overheard, bright and shining. The air was nippy and smelled of bonfires and cooking fires and grills cooling. I destinguished three different types of music playing in the distances around us. Far across the fields could be seen a fire, small as a speck, but I knew it would be a raging inferno had we been close.
I returned home, surrounded by fireworks lighting up the skies and drowning out the stars. Late in the night when the moon had already crested its peak and had begun to fall slowly towards its bed again I sat upon my roof and looked out into the woods. The fireflies were having their own celebration, as diamonds glittering beneath a flickering light. In the end, their's was a more marvelous celebration and felt more realistic than all the fireworks I had seen.