on a hot July the Fourth

At the backyard party and picnic I usually attend on the Fourth, I met an evolutionary psychologist, one of that tiresome breed of people who use the term "ape brain" a lot, and attribute every aspect of human behavior to our species' upbringing on the savanna. Look at the yard around us, he said. There's a lawn behind the house, while all the trees are clustered up away from the house, against the back fence. This, he said, is because of our deep instinctual need to have our homes surrounded by the savanna, away from the forest.

I suggested that it's also due to our deep instinctual need to follow the fire code regulations.

Got home in time to watch the TV broadcast of the fireworks shows highlights from around the area, from the comfort of our couch. It appears that if I'd gone as far as Marin, I'd have seen a show particularly worth seeing. B. and I sang every other set of words we could think of to the patriotic band tunes that occupied the sound broadcast:

"To Anacreon in Heaven
Where he sat in full glee ..."

"Glory, Glory Harry Lewis
His cloth goes shining on."

"... Send him victorious
Happy and glorious
Long to reign over us
God save the king."