Sum . . sum . . . sumertime

The caption from this New Yorker cartoon reads: "I love the sound of everyone else getting away for the weekend."

 

Yeah, well, I can't say the same. Being in a resort area, we know the place is not ours for 3 months of the year. But, that means that for 9 months of the year, we get to call this place 'home'. It's not a bad deal, actually. It's only really bad when I forget that we have this place for the majority of the year. And, I have to remember that their vacation dollars help to fuel the economy.

 

In addition to 'impulse buying' at the local shops and boutiques as well as spending tons of money at the 5 - count them, FIVE - discount malls on Coastal Route One - they will consume massive amounts of food and drink, most of it 'fast', highly processed food like pizza and french fries and corn dogs as well as sweets that keep dentists in business like cotton candy and saltwater taffy and thick, gooey fudge and hideously large, brightly colored lollipops. 

 

Some will also frequent many of the higher scale restaurants and dine on exquisite food and drink, but they'll also hit up the places with names like "Crab Barn" and "Crabby Dicks" where they can pound wooden hammers on the crustaceans covered in Old Bay and pick and suck and guzzle massive pitchers of beer just like they think the locals do for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

 

The worst part is the litter. I don't know what it is that possesses people to come to a place that is so beautiful it makes them sigh with delight and then leave their trash on the sidewalks and streets. Or, the parents with kids in strollers who leave their child's poopie diaper on someone's front lawn. 

 

No, I am not making that up. It happens more often than you think.

 

The other worst part is the traffic. It's not just heavy, it's dangerous. There's something about being near an ocean breeze that causes some people to lose their minds right after their common sense flies straight out the window. They honestly believe that if they weave and bob from one lane of traffic to the next, or run a red light, that they will get to the beach sooner. 

 

I really don't mean to complain. 

 

I know. I am sorta complaining. 

 

Okay, I am complaining. 

 

I shouldn't. I am really blessed to be able to stay in air-conditioned comfort in my Cha-Cha L'mour Sun Room and, with a little bit of planning and forethought, I can do my marketing mid-week and run up the street to my neighbor's farm stand and get fresh tomatoes and corn and avoid all that mishegas on John J. Williams Hwy and Coastal Route One and, God forbid, in the coastal towns of Lewes, or Rehoboth or Dewey or Bethany Beach. 

 

My neighborhood association will have all sort and manner of activities planned right here. We have a Pontoon Boat Decorating Contest. And, a House Decorating Contest (which reminds me, I do have to at least put out the July 4th bunting on the railing of the deck). 

 

We will be treated to 'panasonic and 'stereophonic' fireworks right from our deck. We'll be able to see the brilliant displays of pyrotechnics from Lewes to Bethany while sitting in our deck chairs, sipping our Ice Tea. 

 

Note to self: Get out the Thunder Shirts for the furbabies. 

 

Unfortunately, some of the neighborhood bozos who summer here from PA and some parts of MD, VA, and NJ will have bought their own fireworks. It's illegal to light your own fireworks here in DE. It's not in PA, which is the source of local - albeit illegal here - pyrotechnics. 

 

So the good ole boys who display their "real" patriotism by flying an American flag on the back of their pick up trucks and on the back of their pontoon boats and wear MAGA hats, and who think it is their patriotic duty to decline the COVID vaccine (which they believe is just a hoax created by those they call the DemocRATS - which they think is being too clever by half, to the point of knee-slapping hysteria), also display their 'independence' by thumbing their nose at Delaware laws and lighting fireworks in their own yards. 

 

A few years ago, one of our neighbors had a HUGE party that featured several kegs of beer. Someone got just a little too tipsy and lit a firecracker which rolled under our car and up against our storage shed, searing grass and brush and trees in its path. 

 

Thank goodness I happened to have been out walking the dogs - and was wearing more than flip flops - so I was able to run and kick it away from the shed and stop out the sparks on the grass. The offender and the owner of the house next door appeared shortly after I rescued my own shed. I think I remember emitting a low growl which I thought was better than letting loose with the string of obscenities that was dancing just behind my teeth. 

 

They apologized profusely and it hasn't happened again but this year, a few of us have committed to taking videos of these idiots and calling the state troupers who usually just look the other way, shaking their heads as you can hear them thinking, "well, no harm, no foul and good ole boys will be good ole boys." (See also: tourism dollars.)

 

Our working theory is that if we have pictures and we sorta kinda indicate that we just might send them to the local news outlets their supervisors will not want the company to look bad and they might start to shut down some of these guys by issuing citations and fines. 

 

It's our theory, anyway. We live in sure and certain hope.

 

Meanwhile, life in the fast lane on LSD (Lower Slower Delaware) goes on. July 4th falls on a Sunday where there'll be Big Dooin's in church with special readings and music, followed by an Ice Cream Sundae Sunday, featuring Clayton and Angie's homemade ice cream which will be augmented by homemade brownies. 

 

We're having a few friends over to celebrate tomorrow afternoon after church. I'm making a huge Santa Fe Salad, featuring baby spinach, corn, black beans, baby cukes, homemade salsa, and shrimp marinated and sauteed in Mexican seasonings with a light dressing of freshly squeezed limes and a drizzle of EVOO. We'll also have some steamed corn because it's local and fresh and it's our patriotic duty, we think, to support our neighborhood farmers. 

 

I'm off to put some spit and polish on tomorrow's sermon. Well, it's not really a sermon. And, it's not even long enough to be considered a homily. It's more just a brief reflection. Shorter than this one, in fact. Believe it or not, it is a lot more work and takes a lot more time to write a 3-minute reflection than it does a 10-12 minute sermon. 

 

Have a great holiday, my friends, wherever you are and however you plan to spend it. Our democracy is precious and needs defending now, more than ever. 

 

Just remember: We are the only nation in the world to have as one of its operating principles "the pursuit of happiness". That's right after we claim life and liberty to be precious to us. In fact, we say that these truths are 'self-evident'. And, PS&OBTW, they were "endowed" upon us by our Creator. 

 

Think about that for five and a half red hot seconds. 

 

It's right there in the Preamble to The Bill of Rights. Maybe you could set aside 5 minutes to read it sometime this weekend. Maybe read parts of it as the grace you say before you take part in your holiday feast. (And, you do remember to say grace before your holiday feast, right?)

 

Here it is, right here: https://www.ushistory.org/declaration/document/

 

Whatever you do, I hope you make it a great holiday, one that will honor those who wrote: "And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor."

 

Today, in our day and time, we can do no less.