After the Fourth

Today is suuuuch a lazy day.

I've found I get less done when I get up in the early morning than if I give myself a couple more hours of sleep. (This is assuming all goes well and I actually get to sleep before the sun comes up.) I don't see much reason to be up before 10 am when I don't have to go to work, since I inevitably spend that time in a sort of somnolent daze, halfway reading about Margaret Mead in New Guinea (a review of which is probably next up or second up here. There will be a new review before the end of the day, but it'll probably be Danse Macabre), halfway petting the cat and drowsing and being pissed at the phone for ringing and making me get up before I'm ready.

That laziness tends to continue, and I haven't done much all day -- small organizational tasks, a brief foray to the store for chips and money orders to pay the rent, catching up on email. Which leads me ever on to my point.

Yesterday I posted about my Fourth of July experience to a small degree. I didn't talk about it at the time, but last week, the same night I got the job, I met John and Alex, two incredibly awesome young Australians on a backpack tour of the U.S..

It was already fairly late when the poker game ended and I joined their conversation at Cafe O2...we talked about, among other things, Tommy Emmanuel (my knowledge of whom was described as "obscure"), slang across the globe, the Mississippi River, and holidays, specifically the Fourth of July. They have Anzac Day in New Zealand and Australia, and other patriotic-type "remember the war dead and veterans" days just like we do, but on description couldn't think of any "patriotic" holidays that would cause, for instance, a particularly cute barista to put red, white and blue extensions in her hair for the week leading up to the holiday (they were very cute, I swear...you'd just have to know her). I told them they'd have to give me their impressions after they'd seen a celebration for themselves.

The boys emailed me today from St. Louis, which is where they headed the day after I met them. Here, excerpted from their emails, is what the Glorious Fourth looks like to two dudes from the Southern Hemisphere:

Forgot about fourth of july so when we got into town and the streets were deserted it was strange, then cheerleaders and marching bands on every street all day,very american. the fireworks were awesome and there were sooooo many people.but the second the fireworks finnished everyone just up and left! so noreal party scene or anything which was a shame. (John)

4th of july was pretty extreme. the fireworks...oh man, wow!!! mega fireworks, bigger than anything i've ever seen. we don't really have such an organised celebrations back home, just more general drinking etc. (Alex)

From this dazzlingly scientific sociological study, I conclude that Australians know more about what makes a good party than we do. But then, I already suspected that. Which would you rather get drunk and try to sing: The Star-Spangled Banner, or Waltzing Matilda? (CDHSarah does not get to answer this question, because it will involve her stomping through the flattened streets of Tokyo.) Then again, I've never been a huge fan of fireworks and a large fan of parties, so perhaps I am prejudiced and/or UnAmerican. I dunno.

Maybe if the Bush administration pisses me off any more I'll take a trip to see if, like Friday in the Heinlein novel, I prefer life with the Aussies and Enzedds.

Good journey, John and Alex! Thanks for being cool passers-through.

ETA: We're going to try this again. Book reviews are up for Danse Macabre and We Have Always Lived In the Castle. The links to the stories SHOULD take you to the individual reviews now, but I can't be sure because something in my Myspace settings tries to keep me logged in while I try to look at things without a username...will someone check, and comment? (And then will you all join MySpace and comment on my book reviews? Purleeeaze?)(Kidding.) (No, really.) (No, really.)