Our currency is singularly unattractive, and our stamps are generally boring. Even tiny third-world countries produce far more interesting specimens.

Now there's one more reason to cheer for America, one more patriotic flag I'm willing to wave. The Post Office is releasing a new series of stamps called Masters of American Photography!

These black and white photo stamps may be the most beautiful the U.S. Postal Service has ever issued. They include the photography of Edward Weston, Imogen Cunningham, Ansel Adams, and many others.

I am in philatelic heaven.

Continued from part one.

Rains Wednesday evening and Thursday morning had not been boding well for the Independence Day celebrations, but nature had smiled on us benevolently with sun throughout the afternoon's grilling festivities, and as sundown approached, we were further rewarded with clear skies for the upcoming fireworks extravaganza.

As we waited on the rooftop deck, we could see smaller shows of illegal fireworks being shot off in various neighborhoods around Austin.

We were disappointed to find we couldn't hear the symphony concert from where we were—most other concerts at Auditorium Shores can be heard quite well at my building, but I suppose they must tone it down for classical music despite letting the rock-n-roll blare loudly across the river.

We didn't even hear the big Howitzer cannons firing, as they typically do in the 1812 Overture grand finale of the symphony concert. Perhaps they didn't use the Howitzers this year due to the soggy conditions in the park...

In any event, once the fireworks display began, we had little reason to feel we had missed anything of major importance. It was a truly spectacular display as always, with several types we had never seen before.

There's not much else I can say about the fireworks. The images really speak for themselves, but don't do justice to the show by any means.

After the fireworks, we went back to the apartment for a last round of cookies. Continuing the multi-cultural theme of our celebrations, we discussed bizarre Japanese game shows, and then watched the high points of the bizarre Japanese anime, Revolutionary Girl Utena.

To sum up the movie, sword-fighting schoolgirls with definite lesbian tendencies turn into cars to escape their incomprehensible surreal fantasy world so they can arrive naked and intertwined in the post-apocalyptic "real world". No subtext there.

Believe it or not, in Japan, this is typical teenage-girl fare. God bless Japan for keeping us entertained.

On that unusual ending note, the party disbanded. All in all, an excellent Fourth of July.

And leftover bratwursts for me! Let me say once again that culinary diversity is the flavor of patriotism I can most easily get behind. Yeah, America! Woohoo!

Last year I was in Montreal for Independence Day, so there was not much celebration, and I did not get to take advantage of my excellent downtown location for viewing the fireworks.

So this year, I decided to throw a "swim, grill & chill" party for some friends, punctuated by a viewing of the big city fireworks show from the roof of the building.

The afternoon started rolling as everyone arrived and somehow managed to pack all of their food into the refrigerator. We immediately set about diminishing the supplies of Ace pear cider and watched a Wallace & Gromit video.

After a couple of hours of hanging out, we made our way down to the pool for some swimming and grilling. Karin took the first turn on the grill, looking very fashionable in her new hat:

Mmmm....bratwurst.

Later, "Hedgehog" took over the grill, adopting a more aggressive approach:

We were not exactly the all-American Norman Rockwell celebration, with our Thai iced tea and portobello mushrooms and mahi mahi and German sausages, but hey! America is a melting pot, isn't it?

We also skewered some shish kebabs:

Everyone helped themselves and ate heartily. We were all stuffed, with plenty of food left to spare.

In the background of the last two images you can see some of the other tenants. Later on, they actually began chicken-fighting in the pool. It was a perfect opportunity for Bruce to use one of his favorite snarky comments:

"I remember my first beer."

They were also playing Jerry Jeff Walker, on repeat, loudly, from a boom-box much closer to our corner of the courtyard than theirs.

In the spirit of what I like about America but don't actually see all that often—tolerance—we let the music play on and did not object.

Hurrah for melting pots, culinary diversity, and getting along with people who don't celebrate the way you do! That's patriotism I can stand behind. Especially the culinary diversity.

Finally, we could eat no more and moved the party back upstairs to the apartment. Christine and some of the other girls commandeered the oven to bake cookies, while everyone sprawled across the apartment in various postures of relaxation...

We hung out and ate cookies for a while, until the sun began to set and we set out for the nearby rooftop deck to stake out our seats for the big fireworks show.

Details and images from the fireworks in the next post, as the story continues...

You should also definitely check out party guest Kenan's comments on these festivities, including some interesting ruminations about patriotism, nationalism, and our place in the world.