Wot no Flags!

July draws to a close, the air-conditioning is booming and I now know what it means to live in a super-city during a summer heatwave; hot being the obvious answer. My genius idea of running home from Harlem-125th to Midtown 2-3 nights a week has melted faster than the double chocolate sundae sandwich I haven't yet had from the 9th ave Creamery....(1,250 calories KABOOM, you can't believe they have to put the nutritional impact up on their boards by law!)

The heat has certainly been oppressive; sidewalks steamin', clothing down to a bare minimum and kids messing around with open water-hydrants in the southside Bronx (particularly like knowing the movies haven't lied to me on that last one). That said, most everywhere is air-conditioned so it's definitely manageable and the certainty of knowing that tomorrow is going to be a hot one is a novelty

All around, people looking half-dead, walking on the sidewalk hotter than a match-head

The month started out with the annual 4th of July public holiday, which as far as I could gather, signals the start of the middle-class exodus to the beaches beyond New York; the Hamptons, Martha's Vineyard, Nantucket and the famed "Shore" down in New Jersey. I ventured along to East Hampton out at the easternmost stretch of Long Island. Certainly the temporary denizens weren't short of money as some of the grand houses attested but I was expecting a pumping beach scene of which there was next to none on an overcast muggy day. The lobster roll helped me through but I'm pretty sure I'm missing something on that one so I'll leave comment for another day.

Back in the city, I made it down to a crowded 12th avenue alongside the Hudson to witness the annual Macy's 4th of July Firework display - a specatcular show of boom-booms lighting up the sky for a good length of the river

The atmosphere was very relaxed and friendly as I have come to expect from US communal events but two things struck me after half an hour scratching my head: 1. the smell of cordite standing there in my short-sleeves and 2. where were the flags? The only time we generally get to see fireworks back in the UK is in November so the opportunity to wear shorts, sandals and T-shirt at 10pm was gratefully received though it definitely threw me at first. The second element was not what I had expected at all, ready as I was for a display of American jingoism. Perhaps it's to do with the quantity of recent immigrants in New York but I only saw one or two star-spangled banners and the rendition of America the Beautiful by a group of college students was actually quite touching. As a Brit whose tea had all been chucked back at him more than 2 centuries ago, I can recommend the celebration.