Party And Pride

Well, the fourth fizzled, with rain, rain, rain all day.  I stayed in--necessarily, as I tried my car and again and it didn't even turn over. I'm desperately hoping Pat's Auto is open on Saturday.  My friend and her husband are supposed to come down and I'll ask them to jump the battery enough to get it to his place on Radio Road, so I can have a new one put in.
Showered, dressed, and strolled down to the H.'s party a bit after four to find the usual gang there.  Good picnic food, including hot dogs, burgers, ribs, various salads, and cake and cookies.  I had intended to bring something--it's customary--but couldn't get to the store with no car, so shoot me.
Had a lively discussion around the table with Iris, Julie, Pat G., and Susan, mostly about religion, but touching on politics and the dismal state of the world today.  I mentioned the Brain Research Study and both Iris and Julie are interested.  When I got home, I e-mailed them the particulars.
Thank the gods, there was no gung-ho, "patriotic," worship-the-flag nonsense, during which I always feel distinctly uncomfortable.  I remember one of the H.'s July fourth or Memorial Day parties a few years ago.  Some crazed boob--or maybe boozer--broke into The Stars Spangled Banner and everybody shouted it out except Leslie and me.  We pacifists sat silently.  What came to mind was the scene in the movie version of Cabaret in the beer garden when the children get up and start singing Urberland or the equivalent. Many of the patrons--the approved, Aryan ones, that is--join in, swelling up with joy at their mighty nation, up from the depths after World War I and poised to rid the world of vermin like Jews and cripples. The phrase applied to Hitler, "criminal pride," comes to mind.
I hope, hope, hope I can get my car up and running today.