I wrote a really long entry yesterday about seeing the fireworks over the Statue of Liberty, but the network hiccuped and I lost it. These things just aren't as good the second time, you know? So here's the basic idea:

I saw the Statue of Liberty for the first time Sunday, the 4th of July, during a time in my life when I'm leaving everything I know behind and jumping right into the future. I cried...and want to scream and kick like a baby because I can't feel that same swelling of pride when I watch the news. (That would be the day I stick a little flag sticker on my car, Mr. Bush.) Battery Park was full of people from all over the country--and the world--just waiting to watch these beautiful explosions over a city that has seen the torment of war. That's seen. I wonder if those immigrants who came haggard and huddled onto Ellis Island so many years ago (and those that still find their way here) did it so they could be on the happy side of the explosions.

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