What It Is

My problems are first world problems; of that I'm painfully aware.  If I struggle to find a semblance of satisfaction or belonging in my new neighborhood, I contrast that with the plight of many former Syrians today.  Living in Lebanon, or other countries and hiding in plain sight. Not wanted, having no other place to go or means to get anywhere.  It must become my problem.
As the country bathes itself in an orgy of sparkling red white and blue, I continue to see the non-sparkling, dove gray of homeless veterans begging for something, anything.  It has become my problem.

This country overflows on it's holidays.  People stubbornly cling to the fireworks that celebrate something most haven't the faintest idea about.  They know only the simplest history.  Freedom to flaunt ignorance is certainly something to shout about.
These are uncommonly hot days...in every way.  We are continually asked to support our troops without helping them ask the questions they need to ask so they wouldn't be stuck with defending something that's not clear.
What does it mean to "do what you gotta do."  Is that like saying "it is what it is..."
THAT
         BEING

         SAID...Yeah, I said it.
Tonight, after repeated warnings, somebody will start a fire in their eagerness to celebrate Independence from England for the 13 colonies.  Tonight someone will get 3rd degree burns, resulting from their need to misinterpret their history.  Public resources and labor will be wasted on those too wasted to consider the common good.  With no Common Sense, they are a (Tom) Paine in the collective neck of this patch of North America.
So star-spangle your barbeque sauce and try not to be too shocked.