The 4^th of July has never been one of my favorite holidays – especially as a grownup. I mean, I don’t eat meat and I hate the heat, so a day centered around BBQs and being outdoors holds limited appeal to me.. I mean, sure, as a kid I was into it – especially the sparklers. I have fond memories of dancing around the backyard with my siblings making circles with a flaming wire stick while our mother continually droned, “Be careful.”

That was then and this is now. The 4^th of July where I live was 98 degrees with a heat index of 110. In short, it was the seventh layer of hell – and I’m not just talking about the weather. It was America’s 250^th birthday that somehow got hijacked into a partisan state fair that was so lame that even Milli Vanilli canceled out. To be fair, one of that duo died in 1998, but still – this Fourth turned out to be like the movie version of Cats – wildly anticipated, but terribly disappointing.

I’m old enough to remember the excitement surrounding the Bicentennial in 1976. I was working at a summer camp in a small town in Virginia, and there was a parade and everyone in the little town came. Honestly, almost the entire population of the town was in the parade. I know we all carried small flags, but  I had to Google to double check who the president was then – Gerald Ford. That tells you how nonpartisan life was back then.

If you know me at all, you know I’m a radical left lunatic – a proud one – but I’m also a patriot who cries at the Star-Spangled Banner – every damn time. I worked for the Paralyzed Veterans of America for eight years and gained a deep appreciation for the sacrifices so many of my fellow Americans made for our country. I became friends with one Marine veteran who told me the story of how he was shot in Viet Nam along with several of his platoon members. He was paralyzed from the chest down and put into a body bag because the medics thought he was dead. Somehow, he managed to move one hand high enough to indicate that he was alive before the body bag was zipped up. You don’t forget stories like that. And I have no idea how he voted.

My father was an Army veteran and one of my most sacred possessions is the flag that was presented to my mother at his memorial service. I was working remotely from home on September 11^th and after the second plane crashed into the World Trade Center, I didn’t know what else to do, but to hang out my flag on the front porch. George W. Bush was president then, and I think he comforted all of us – even those who didn’t vote for him – in those raw harrowing days. Do you remember that feeling – that there were no sides? We were all just heartbroken and frightened Americans.

So, I woke this 4^th of July filled with anger and that soon turned into despair. I felt inconsolable. I know I’m not the only one. I texted with some friends who were not in a great place either and, as always, I talked to my sister on the phone for a very long time. And my dear wife gently asked me what she could do and I told her softly to just leave me alone. She nodded and settled in to binge the last five episodes of The Pitt – which I don’t have the stomach for watching.

I spent most of the afternoon in my office. I had an hour FaceTime conversation with my two oldest friends from fourth grade. One of them was turning 70 the next day. We talked about family, various aches and pains, and plans to get together later in the year. It was all so delightfully normal and comforting. Not at all like what is going on – what has been going on – in our country for what feels like such a very long time.

And then I watched one of my favorite movies – an old one (1978) – Same Time, Next Year. It stars Ellen Burstyn and Alan Alda as a young housewife and accountant that meet at a charming inn on the coast of California. They have dinner, talk for hours and end up in bed together. They’re both happily married with children but agree to meet every year at the same inn for one weekend together. Don’t get bogged down with the moral issues of this scenario – it’s an almost 50-year-old rom com with a Johnny Mathis soundtrack. Anyway, the story advances five years at a time as we see the couple and the country change. The film is certainly dated (as am I) but it has a sweet and hopeful aura about it. I can’t really explain it, but for $3.99 you can stream it for yourself. I got my money’s worth for sure and somehow I felt better and I’m pretty sure it was the hope part that nudged me out of my Fourth funk.

You can never underestimate hope. Michelle Obama knows this and it was central to her magnificent speech at the opening of the Obama Presidential Library a few weeks ago. She put it is a simply as possible when she said, “Y’all, hope is all we have.” I want to try and remember that when I start to sink into the deep end of despair over the current state of our union. We’ve been through a lot these 250 years and somehow we have managed to survive – but it’s going to take a lot of hard work and a lot of that hope Michelle was talking about.

Because hope is the essential spark that lights the fire of change. But hope is a choice. Whether or not we use our voices to speak up is a choice. Voting is a choice. Being a decent human being is a choice. Believing that we still hold the power to build a country that reflects us is a choice. ~ Michelle Obama, June 18, 2026

Okay, I’m in – and I’m bringing sparklers.