Happy 231st, America

On this wet and dreary Fourth of July, we couldn’t get up the energy to attend the annual neighborhood parade led by Mr. Boy’s cub scout pack. So he missed seeing his chums and we missed seeing their parents. But there’s still plenty of time for fried chicken, potato salad, apple pie and iced tea, on this, the country’s 231st birthday. It’s too wet for fireworks, even for the sparklers we planned, so we’ll watch them on television. An old Army friend recently wrote that he thought the country and the Army were in peril, in this age of Islamic terrorism. Perhaps. But I have always thought that the nation was too tough, too resilient to be imperiled for long, and I believe that the Long War will be no exception. If you’re an American, I know you will understand my sentiment. If you’re not, as seablogger Alan Sullivan says, you have my condolences.

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