In a way, though, we are truly American. We have side hustles. I’ve got three: I write compensated (yet honest) reviews, I sell stuff in FB, and I get money for blogging.

N has income from his book, he lets his property for extra income, plus he has another side hustle that brings in more income than my entire salary. My Canadian relatives are always stunned by all our side hustles. In Canada, the economy is more rigid and doesn’t allow for many side hustles.

Just so that people stop telling me that only women do this kind of thing:

I woke up this morning unnaturally early, with a sick feeling in my stomach. I went downstairs while my wife and daughters slept to make some coffee. I noticed a little pink water beneath the watermelon sitting on the counter. I picked it up, only for watermelon water and pulp to gush out all over the counter and floor. Evidently it had been bruised or something, but I took it as a kind of sign on this Independence Day in this year of nightmares, 2018.

And a bit later in the post:

Nowhere may be safe from the rising tide of hate submerging the world.

It’s true that an immigrant is always an immigrant. I will never feel sufficiently self-important to see signs that watermelons approve of my politics and to engage in the national pastime of extreme self-pity.

For the first time as an American citizen, I wish you happy July 4th!

It also happens to be exactly 20 years since I arrived on this continent.

Yes, that would be twenty. When I stepped off the airplane in Toronto back in 1998, I knew exactly what I wanted. Except for minor details*, I now have it.

Time for a new plan.

* The original goal was to be a literary translator from Spanish. And wear pastel-colored outfits.

My sister is in town, which means we are outlet shopping. The only store at the outlets that has a constant security presence is the one for a brand that attracts almost exclusively African American clientele. And it’s a pretty expensive store, by the way.

From Mike’s blog:

What‘s something that seems obvious within your profession, but the general public seems to misunderstand?

— Louie (@Mantia) July 1, 2018

That the absolute majority of students are not smartphone-obsessed snowflakey SJW types we keep reading about in the press. Most students live in a different galaxy from all this triggers / cultural appropriation / “I’m too sensitive to exist” crap.

Also, that lack of funding is really not what’s causing problems in the Humanities.

“The brand most predictive of top income in 1992 is Grey Poupon Dijon mustard. By 2004, the brand most indicative of the rich is Land O’Lakes butter, followed by Kikkoman soy sauce. By the end of the sample, ownership of Apple products (iPhone and iPad) tops the list. Knowing whether someone owns an iPad in 2016 allows us to guess correctly whether the person is in the top or bottom income quartile 69 percent of the time. Across all years in our data, no individual brand is as predictive of being high-income as owning an Apple iPhone in 2016.”

OK, Grey Poupon mustard isn’t fancy at all. The one I buy is at least twice the price. We only buy Land O’Lakes butter because N has some weird attachment to it. We have no tablets in the house and nobody has an iPhone. I hate the brand and find it deeply deficient. My sister showed me her iPhone today, and it has no opening for headphones even. It’s total crap.

This test sucks.

This is a post for those who know me and my husband. Klara’s cousin asked her which boys she likes at school.

“I like Holden and Ronan,” Klara said.

“Do you like Leo?” I asked.

“No!” Klara said indignantly. “I don’t like Leo because he talks a lot!”

We collapsed with laughter.

For those who don’t know us, N is very taciturn. He’s so taciturn that people who’ve known us for years will probably have trouble recognizing his voice. I never liked voluble men because the time they spend talking is the time taken away from my talking.

Now that Mexico is on the path to become a new Venezuela, we have a lot of real fun coming our way.

I’m in favor of people immigrating who are perfectly happy with their children rejecting the parents’ culture (or cultivating it privately). I’m in favor of adults who can accept the idea that their children born in the new country will be more like the children in the new country and will be free to reject most or all of the parent’s world view and culture (including religion).

God, that’s the whole point for me. I want my kid to have a typical American childhood. I want her to be like the happy American kids and not like the deeply messed up kids where I come from. I don’t want her to carry the burden of 70 years of totalitarianism and a whole lot of bad shit before and after.

I have no idea why some nations manage to create a life that produces happy children while others can’t. But I want to be in the place that does, and this is the only one of them that would have me. Besides Canada, of course, but I don’t like Canada as much.

I don’t want to introduce Klara to the books and cartoons I enjoyed when I was a kid. N and I recently conducted a comparison between our most famous kids’ authors and Dr Seuss, and Dr Seuss won hands down.

If I were so into my culture and thought it was great, why would I ever leave?

Whoever dominates culturally and owns the winning narrative always detests free speech. The weaker side that is trying to rebel against the hegemony will champion free speech because that’s the only hope to fight off the hegemonic narrative.

This is why the mantle of free speech champions has been passed from left to right.

You are welcome, NYTimes, for solving the great mystery that’s been puzzling you so much.