The ranting post.

This was the weekend where the sprinklers came out, and the shiny, sport-utility-strollers made their debuts, and all the neighbors hung their flags.

Nothing pisses me off more than a fair weather patriot. Either don't or do, I say. Now, we don't own a flag, but we also don't own a home. You can bet your ass that if we did, the stars and stripes would not be a faddish seasonal thing like inflatable Santas and Snoopy windsocks. You can also bet that if we did, I would totally become that person--the one on the porch wrapped in the union colors, yelling obscenities at dogs and children and daffodils, uninformed and unaware and warmed by the fires of liberty and vodka.

So, perhaps it's best for everyone that I currently rent and, for the time being, practice a seemlier version of patriotism with my 101st Airborne teeshirts and cans of coca-cola.