Still have the borrowed/dropped-off dog, Henry, and tomorrow is the day that his owner picks him up after nearly two weeks at Auntie Nancy's Spa for Pets. Brita pitcher water, Iams, healthy biscuits, grooming, a flowery yard in which to romp, rock & roll education - it's every canine's dream.
Last dusk's rah-rah-rah Peace is Over candlelight vigil was an odd contrast of iconography. The three fates in the form of habited nuns sat dourly on lawn chairs front & center in the off-limits (except to media, special guests, the handicapped... and the fates) section. Each held a flag, and a candle.
One of my boy colleagues said to me You know you're up for something interesting when even the nuns are out for blood.
At the end of the programme I felt suddenly like I had been jettisoned onto ground zero of a 1950's war-era movie replete with the patriotic chanting, bunting, plump babies, etc. There was one rotten apple which I noted, a drunk kilt-clad veteran who was groaning and shouting hoarsley either THANK YOU or GOD BLESS AMERICA. And we all know there's no way in hell he could shout GOD BLESS MY UNDERWEAR as men in kilts like to swing free & easy.
Walking back towards the vehicle with a small entourage of two, the throng rediscovered a downtown monument to veterans and there left multi-scented candles at the base of it and around its grass triangle, a sight which reminded me of the John Lennon 20th anniversary death vigil which I attended in Strawberry Fields.
All in all, great pictures. Especially the moment when I spotted a stepladder alongside the large stage, climbed up and shot from the side of the platform, my invisibility costume rendering me unseen by politicians, the lady signing, and the onstage troops. HOORAY FOR BEING INVISIBLE.