Because I don’t have to work today, we didn’t have to wait until this evening, until just before sundown, until after Jeopardy is over, when it’s starting to cool off, to go for our daily walk. Instead we were out the door and on the path by 7:30 this morning. But the time of the day was really the only difference in that, no matter where the sun is in the sky, he still thinks me odd for not in the least being interested in a big, steaming pile of dog shit, not even wandering close enough for just a swift whiff. We’re different like that.

And although I’ll confess our mutual interest in a huge beetle we found lumbering along the roots of an old oak, my curiosity began and ended with just looking at it—I therefore had no desire whatsoever to discover what the thing actually tasted like—and from the sounds of it, it was fairly crunchy. Again, we’re different.

And so while my dog has begun his celebrations of Independence Day with an early morning entomological feast, I’m putting off my festivities until this afternoon. That’s when, before I go to see Kid Rock, I’ll go across the river for a bucket of that good, spicy fried chicken. That’s right—Kid Rock, fried chicken, all in the same day…because nothing's more patriotic than white trash and clogged arteries, right?

And yes, that likely means that I’ll miss out on the formality of a pyrotechnics display—but don’t feel sorry for me because, again, I remind you, I’m going to see Kid Rock. I expect plenty of fireworks around me when I’m surrounded by a bunch of rednecks liquored up on the cheap stuff. It really can’t get any better than that.

So on this day when, over 230 years ago, the founders of this great nation gathered together and came to the brave and history-altering decision that it was time to go it alone in the world, I have but one question: do you have a clean wife-beater I can borrow?