Michael Kelly Mort Kondracke Ch.
Cornucopias runneth over with yellow corn, red tomatoes, and long green beans.
Wicker baskets overflow with melons as plump as pigs, with berries in black, blue and red, juicy peaches, plums, cherries and figs. Not even the most ardent bureaucrat dares tamper with the date. The Fourth has escaped the Monday holiday syndrome that sacrifices history for long weekends. It's a chocolate, vanilla and strawberry ice cream kind of day, as American as Hagen and Dasz. It's artist is Norman Rockwell, quintessentially appealing to the common man, woman, and child of the small town, elevated by the commonplace in a country that continues to stretch the boundaries of egalitarianism and broaden a bounty beyond the dreams of avarice.