Maybe one day we will be celebrating our independence from oil, and not just "foreign oil" (as the politicians like to specify), but all OIL.
Fourth of July was full of unexpected visitors and other tasty surprises. Shortly after dinner we were taking a stroll when who should ride up our street but Johnny Nebraska. He's had my old Burley for a couple of weeks now. Glad to see he's putting it to good use. Speaking of good uses -- that's a great place to store your helmet (clipped to your bar stool, of course.) What the hell, let's give a shout out to Jeff Frane since Johnny and I both happened to be wearing GMS t-shirts. Check out Jeff's other projects at http://www.bikejerks.com/
Sadly, I know Johnny was actually cruising our street looking for young biker chicks. We made sure Sylvia pedaled the other way.
Angela surprised us by modeling this retro ultra-patriotic outfit. Kinda makes you want to attend an ice cream social or bake an apple pie or maybe help a neighbor raise a barn.
Angela, Eric and I headed back to their neighborhood. We caught the end of the Powderhorn Park fireworks show. I'm not a huge fan of fireworks, but the people watching was phenomenal. As we were working our way into the park, several thousand people were trying to get out. Frolic and mayhem abounded.
Back to Angela and Eric's for a couple beers and a Black Sabbath documentary. My ride home the next morning displayed the aftermath -- fireworks casings, exploded wrappers, powder residue -- lining the streets. Happy Birthday, America.