Fuck the Fourth

We’re anything but “free” these days.

Forgive me for the profane title to this piece, but these are tough times, my friends and I am all out of sugar-coating. It rots your teeth, anyway.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become a bit of a Grinch about holidays. My taste for them is somewhat “tainted,” you might say.

When your parents and close relatives are gone and your family is fractured, holidays can often do more harm than good. But that said, I do my best to suck it up for my husband and sister.

We haven't seen or spoken to our brother in over five years and my husband’s two siblings live out of town, so suffice it to say the “warm fuzzies” that Madison Avenue crams down our collective throat well before, during and even after the holidays, Christmas, especially, sticks in my craw like a lump of under-chewed turkey.

And New Year’s Day? Even worse. Instead of seeing the new year as a fresh start, I reflect on everything I failed to achieve in the year, hence. Yes, I’m neurotic that way.

So to say that I heave a sigh of relief when all the hubbub is finished is an understatement.

Now, in the States, we’re moving into the Fourth of July. “Independence Day!” The day that commemorates our Declaration of Independence on July 4th, 1776.

As some of our moronic neighbors have been igniting what sounds like actual bombs for over a month now, one would think the day itself will be anti-climatic. But I’m certain that we’ll be treated to our fair share of explosives, sending our poor cats scurrying to whatever hidey-hole they can escape to.

I never understood the whole “all sound and no fury” thing. It’s one thing to create a dazzling display of pyrotechnics eliciting “Ooohs and “Ahhs” from viewers brimming with patriotic pride. But, sheer noise? Again, that replicates the sound of bombs being dropped? What the fuck is the point of that?

Morons. They’re everywhere. None more moronic than the one in the White House.

Which brings me to the point of this story: We’re anything but “free” these days. Anything but “Independent.” And instead of celebrating these ideals, we should mourn their loss.

In fact, we've become “dependent.” Thanks to the Orange Dictator and Covid-19, we’re dependent upon random swabs up shoved up our nasal cavities and buckets of hand sanitizer.

We’re dependent upon arrows in grocery stores telling us in which direction we should walk.

We’re dependent upon markers that tell us where to stand in order to maintain “social distancing.”

We’re dependent upon face shields — that the morons refuse to wear — so that we don’t infect others or become infected, ourselves.

We’re dependent upon delivery services and curbside pickups to limit our contact with our fellow citizens.

We’re dependent upon the news outlets and our various devices so that we may keep our tenuous connection with the world at large. A “cerebral connection,” at best. One that informs us that the number of people infected by the virus is increasing by the thousands…daily.

Because, you know: Some people just have to go to the beach.

Some of us are dependent upon alcohol and other substances to help “get us through.” That could be the most egregious dependency of all. One devoid of a light at the end of the tunnel.

“It’s where you finish.” Indeed.

And it feels like we’re finished. Whipped. And, even though, we’re force-fed the notion that “We’re all in this together during these challenging times,” I say bullshit.

At least, I’m not feeling it. Are you?

There will be people this “holiday” who will behave in a “business as usual” fashion. Grilling hot dogs and burgers. Swilling booze like there’s no tomorrow. (Is there?) And rubbing up against friends and family with impunity.

Oh, yeah. And they’ll be playing with fireworks. Or fire.

That remains to be seen. Regardless, I think I’ll sit this one out.

Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.

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