The Throes (Lynn Kerstan)

The Fourth of July has washed over our small “island” town like a tsunami. If I dare to drive anywhere, on my return I’ll have to park in an adjacent county. Bunting and flags and red/white/blue spinwheels are everywhere. Coronado is a military town, with the Naval Air Station at one end and the Naval Amphibious Base (where the SEALs train) at the other. It’s also a casual, laid-back So-Cal beach community, so our celebrations feature local residents, the military, clowns, and (redundantly) the ubiquitous politicians. It’s a throwback to an earlier time, really, and rather a lot of fun.

I could be in the long, long parade. A club to which I belong is actually leading it (after the requisite honors guard and politicians) this year. A club barbeque will follow, and I’d dearly love to be there as well. But I cannot, because I am in The Throes.

After 16 months of Bad Illness (including a few months of slow recovery), I’m about to re-enter a world I’d thought I would not again experience and see friends I never again expected to see. So naturally, I became obsessed with clothes. In my defense, I’d lived eight months in oversized fleece. I’d given away most of my own clothes when my prognosis was: Death, Soon. And for the first time in my existence, the clothes I still had after recovery–from underwear to outerwear–were too large.

So I was pretty much starting from scratch, and between medical bills and my inability to work, bargains ruled. That meant long and frequent slogs through stores and much rummaging through sales racks, with less frequent bursts of pleasure when something I liked actually fit. After weeks of Shopping Throes, my wardrobe is now assembled (meaning hanging randomly in the closet), each piece bought for itself and not for how it relates to anything else in the closet. The only thing most of them have in common is this: they are blue. Nearly all the rest are black. Not sure how that happened.

Anyway, since I’ve no idea how to put them together in anything resembling an outfit, I shall be forced to bring them all with me. The Packing Throes. These are the suitcases I will be traveling with next Thursday. You’d think I was taking an around-the world tour, not a flight to Memphis, a six-day “tourist” drive to Washington DC, and four days there at the Romance Writers of America Conference. But I can’t leave anything behind. If I don’t bring it, I’ll wind up wanting it. The same way I finally get rid of something I haven’t used for years, only to desperately need it shortly after it’s gone.

Besides, I couldn’t get a coach-class Frequent Flyer ticket, flights out of DC on a summer Sunday being at a premium. So I had to expend nearly all my accumulated miles to fly in the front of the plane, and we “elite” flyers needn’t pay for extra suitcases. You can bet I’m taking advantage of that perk! Not sure how we’ll get all that stuff into Pat’s car, though. Not with all the wine. Oh, dear.

There are hair-Throes as well, as in, I have very little of it. About an inch, some of it wanting to stand straight up, other bits lying flat as paint. Not much to be done about any of that. But around my ears and at the back of my neck, I was getting fairly shaggy and unkempt. So this morning I went to Island Barbers, specializing in military buzz cuts and head shaving, for a trim around the edges. New experiences abound.

Next Thursday night, I’ll be at Pat’s Memphis home, hopefully enjoying a night swim in her pool after a long day of travel. My ride to the airport is collecting me at 4:15am! Friday morning we set out across Tennessee, heading for our hike along the Appalachian Trall.

Okay, we won’t be hiking, or on the Appalachian Trail, because we’d rather be in an air-conditioned car on the Blue Ridge Parkway. And anyway, so I am informed, no one can now speak of hiking on the Appalachian Trail without implying something quite different. And so are metaphors born.

I’ll take lots of pictures along the way and will post whenever I can. All of us, except for Suz (we’ll miss her!) will be at the Conference, so we StoryBroads may not be as organized as we usually are(n’t).

Meantime, back to The Throes. How many shoes should I take? How many will I actually wear? Good looks vs. comfort. Decisions! And honestly, no one really cares. They’re all in their own Throes...except the sane ones. I try to learn from them.
But I never do.

Another country heard from...
The Can-Opener is leaving me again. Does she think I don’t know luggage when I see it? I suppose Thea will come feed me and clean up after me. She’s good that way. But she doesn’t live here, so I’ll be alone most of the time. Of course, I sleep most of the time. And no one will turn on the vacuum cleaner or clean my ears or clip my claws. Maybe this won’t be so bad. Note to Self: Look pitiful when the C-O gets back. That usually leads to petting and cat treats.

I Pull a Rosie Ruiz (LynnK)

Here's L'il Ms. Firecracker, about to frizzle out several hours after the parade. She wasn't so hot before or during the parade, either.

After a painful night and morning with the Shingles, I finally admitted that waiting in line with hundreds of others and their cars and floats and animals for at least an hour before the parade even started, not to mention the parade walk itself, followed by the long walk home . . . Well, I just wasn't up to it.

But I had the hat! And the teeshirt from my group, the Democratic Club of Coronado, which made me feel obligated to show up. Never underestimate the power of Catholic Guilt.

So I decided to walk slowly to a point about midway on the parade route, jump in amongst my gang, and finish up near the street that would lead me home again. All in all, maybe a mile and a half. Not exactly a winter in Valley Forge.

Conserving my measly strength, I sauntered to the Point of Entry well before the time I estimated the Coronado Dems would arrive there. But they didn't come, and they didn't come. I must have missed them! Dispirited, I headed for a point near the end of the route, hoping to meet up with friends watching the parade at Their Usual Spot. Couldn't find them.


But lo! Here came the Dems, lookin' good in their identical blue teeshirts, demonstrating eco-friendly transportation like peddle carts, bicycles, golf carts, hybrid cars, Segways, and feet. I slipped in and joined the smiling and waving.

For a grand total of two blocks. They were moving fast, possibly because the parade got a late start, and within a short time, I was out of breath and lightheaded. Rather than make a scene mid-parade, I toddled over to a curb on a side street, sat, and buried my head between my knees. No question of going to the club's barbeque after the parade.

Ultimately I slogged home, punctuated with stops for sitting and catching breath.
And that's how I spent the Fourth. I didn't even make it to the great fireworks show over Glorietta Bay, which would have required me to walk another two blocks. Okay, I was watching Mark Harmon on NCIS, which was the main reason I stayed in.

While waiting for my group to show up, I did get to see quite a lot of a very long parade. There's nothing fancy in the line-up. Well, except maybe this.















Coronado has long been a Navy town, so the military bands and troops and vehicles play an important part in our celebrations. The vets are most especially honored, and when they appear, people come to their feet and applaud.



Men in kilts. Yum!



Coronado has long been Fourth of July Central. Its first parade was staged in 1888, and in early years, a lot of drinking before marching was involved. Often, when time came for the parade to start, the participants couldn't find the parade. It's always been a labor of love, though, with citizens donating money to finance the celebration and volunteers doing all the work.

This is a small town (about 29,000, including those in military housing on two large Navy bases), but 80,000 people show up to watch the parade. More thousands crowd the beaches and parks. Dogs are abundantly present. Childen laugh and squeal. With the possible exception of those who can't find a parking place, everyone seems to be having a great time!

Me, too, despite my pathetic performance, and I'm already looking forward to next year's parade.

Birthday Greetings (Ben Franklin)

So there you are, my fellow citizens, 232 years after the Continental Congress issued the Declaration of Independence in 1776 and cut the ties that bound us as colonists to another nation. Our Constitution was written, adopted, and put into effect between 1877 and 1879.

Exciting times. Frightening times. I was in the middle of it all, appalled and inspired, determined and despairing. As were, I expect, my fellows. We often quarreled. And yet, as I look upon you now, heirs to our creation, I see that what we pulled together has held together.

Well, let us be realistic. It has, at least, not altogether unraveled.

And great advances have been made in ways we could not imagine in 1776. I smile to see women and people of color claiming their rightful places. But there will be more struggles to come. There always are.

I never fail to wonder, as I did during the times that tried my own soul, how it is that we Americans so often teeter on the edge of disaster, only to summon the courage to draw together and renew our commitment to freedom, to our republic, to our Constitution, and to the welfare of humanity.


This is well worth celebrating.

Being a man with a degree of pride, let me remind you of several remarks I made those many years ago that do, I am sure, apply as greatly in your time as they did in mine:

“If any form of government is capable of making a nation happy, ours I think bids fair now for producing that effect. But after all, much depends on the people who are to be governed.”

“Our new Constitution is now established, and has an appearance that promises permanency; but in the world nothing can be said to be certain except death and taxes.”

"Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch. Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the vote!"

“They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

"It is the first responsibility of every citizen to question authority."

“Whoever would overthrow the Liberty of a Nation, must begin by subduing the Freeness of Speech.”

“I doubt too whether any other Convention we can obtain, may be able to make a better Constitution: For when you assemble a Number of Men to have the Advantage of their joint Wisdom, you inevitably assemble with those Men all their Prejudices, their Passions, their Errors of Opinion, their local Interests, and their selfish Views. From such an Assembly can a perfect Production be expected? It therefore astonishes me, Sir, to find this System approaching so near to Perfection as it does…Thus I consent, Sir, to this Constitution because I expect no better, and because I am not sure that it is not the best.”

In any case, a Happy Fourth to you all, whatever your nation and customs.

One last thought before I fire up the barbeque:
“Beer is living proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.”

Postscript: Lynn Kerstan is either marching in a Fourth of July Parade, about which she will post on Sunday, or Shingled at home popping aspirin and feeling sorry for herself. Being in the Afterlife, I (Ben) cannot place her because of a mysterious distortion in the universe known as Pacific Coast Time.