Ordinarily, I would be out there in the 100-degree heat with the rest of the neighborhood, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the fireworks, scarfing down a hot dog and some ice cream, and happily celebrating my country’s landmark 250th birthday.

But this year the celebrations will go on without me, because I just can’t find a single spark of enthusiasm to cheer on a country whose government has sunk to such depths of corruption and depravity — and whose people have become so overwhelmed, so desensitized, and so convinced that there is no way to fight the unspeakable evil that surrounds them, that they accept it as inevitable, or hope that somehow, miraculously, someone else will solve the problems for them.

And I am constantly reminded of the Russian people’s acceptance when Vladimir Lenin and his Bolshevik Party promised them an end to Tsarist tyranny and a future of “peace, land, and bread,” or the desperate German masses who swallowed Adolph Hitler’s guarantee of a return to greatness following their humiliating defeat in World War I and the after-effects of the disastrous Treaty of Versailles.

I love my country, as I always have. And I shall continue to speak out in support of all that is good and decent and honest in her, and against the forces that would destroy her. But this year I will say a quiet “happy birthday” on my own, and leave the fireworks and picnics to others.

With any luck, maybe next year I’ll find something to celebrate.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
7/4/26