So dad found my blog. Again. And it hurt his feelings. Again. So I came down to Raleigh on the way to the beach to talk it out, and we had a lovely father daughter moment, or more actually, several. He told me things that hurt his feelings, and I explained the joke. He told me when I had my facts wrong, and I apologized. It was all much tamer than I feared it would be. He ate an animal-free dinner, which impressed the hell outta me. I made the best potato salad in the history of human events. (The key is horseradish. I felt my third eye winking.)

Then we watched Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, which seemed revolutionary and unlikely to be filmed today. Those Hollywood liberals are alot more scaredy-cat these days. We didn’t get to see the fireworks, because of a break of trees between us and downtown, but we could hear them, first the city show, then private fuselades, going off until well past 11:30.