Today, I am seven years old. Well, not really, but the date is the same as the one on the calendar when I left my American life behind and was reborn as an expat.
I’m sure I chose the date ironically though the joke was on both America and me since the Fourth of July is one of two holidays I actually liked and celebrated. (The other is Thanksgiving and the irony of this is also not lost on me.)
Since I can’t get Hebrew National hot dogs anywhere and don’t know enough people to organize an all-day-outdoor-beer-drinking party, I’ll probably do my second favorite American activity: go see a big Hollywood movie. I’m thinking it’ll be The Amazing Spider-Man, but the reviews have been less rapturous than I would have liked, so it may be the new Woody Allen.
Regardless, I’ll be thinking of the best bad Hollywood summer movie all day and channeling Bill Pullman’s patriotism and wishing everyone across the Pond a happy beer-drinking, hot dot-eating, cheeseburger-grilling day.