All the picnic pavilions were full (or booked) when we walked through the park on the Fourth. These two guys were smoking meat for a party of one hundred. We stopped to talk for a bit. Peggi asked them what they were smoking, and the guy on the right said, “Just some yard weed.” We laughed, and Peggi said, “No, in the smoker.”
I was intrigued by the two gas cans hanging off the side of the smoker. They said, “It’s not gasoline, it’s cement.” And he pronounced cement like “see-ment.” He said the weight keeps the cooker from rolling over when he opens the top.
We had an invitation to a loft party downtown. The building overlooks the river and is right next to where the city sets off the fireworks. We decided to go low-key and join Kathy in her backyard overlooking the bay. The people on the other side usually put on a show for the boaters, and this year they went all out.
Today is our first day off from soccer in a month. The quarterfinals start tomorrow with only eight teams remaining. Our favorites—Spain, France, and Brazil—are all still in. I was pretty certain the U.S. team would go out when they met one of the European teams, and Belgium made short work of them. I felt sort of sorry for them, playing their best striker only after an intervention from Trump. Can you imagine how the world would have reacted if they had pulled off an upset? The guy wrecks everything he touches.
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