I was going to write something frothy for today. After all, it’s still a holiday, and I’m in the business of “Here. Drink [eat, visit] this! It’s good!” 

I used to look forward to the 4th of July, and the Schuster family traditions that started when I was a kid. I have been a full time New Yorker since my late teens, and I was born in the city. But when I was an infant, my parents moved to Connecticut. My dad tells me that what sealed the deal was that in the car on the way back to the train bound for Grand Central Station, they passed a bunch of kids in flowing wool scarves skating on a frozen pond in that sort of iconic Norman Rockwell painting way (in 1972, A Charlie Brown Christmas had yet to be a thing in their lives).