Greetings from Martha’s Vineyard.  I’ve arrived and begun to get into the rhythm of my island life, despite the busyness of the last few months and the difficulty of extricating myself from it.  As I’ve mentioned before, this schizophrenic aspect of my life can be confusing.  I don’t go away from London on holiday during the summer.  Rather, I relocate my life to someplace else, bringing all the complexities of my life with me.  There’s family, there’s friends, there’s work, there’s a household to organize, an arts charity to run — everything that I do in London, I also do here.  But it’s summer, the sun shines, I’m surrounded by beautiful scenery and, of course, the beach.  Believe me, I’m not complaining.  I know how lucky I am.  But there is one nagging issue that always comes to the fore during the summer, and that’s the British vs American issue.  Which am I? Where does my allegiance lie?  Generally, I can keep that question to myself, simmering under the surface, ignored unless I feel like hauling it out and looking it over.  Generally.  But not on Independence Day.  And today is July 4th.

July 4th is a big deal, at least it is here on Martha’s Vineyard — flags everywhere, parades, “Happy 4th” signs in shop windows, patriotic music on the radio station.  And it’s a big deal among the Guiney clan.  The eldest hosts a cookout and bonfire, often with fireworks, sometimes with a dramatic reading of the Declaration of Independence.  It’s fun and, of course, wonderful to get together with everyone.  But it does also make me a bit uncomfortable.  Although I tend to keep my ideas to myself, I find myself siding with the Red Coats a little too often.  Don’t get me wrong.  I do believe in American independence, no taxation without representation and all that.  Not to mention the drama of the Boston Tea Party.  But, you know, over the centuries, the Brits have been pretty good too and, well, I’ve come to love them and, yes, become one of them.  So it’s a bit awkward.  But it’s also the story of my life, bringing disparate things together and forcing them to live side by side.  Religion, nationality, poetry cum fiction cum theatre.  So I’ll head into today’s celebrations with my head held high, my tongue in my cheek, my eyes wide open and, when necessary, my fingers in my ears.  Here’s to independence! (thanks to tripsounds010rhcp for this)