This morning they announced the bridge closings for Thunder as I was drinking my coffee and reading the newspaper. I kissed wife goodbye and wheeled the yard waste can out to the front yard and started edging the front garden, weed, and prune things that needed pruning.
Bent over, I heard the loud drone of the military plane approaching. I quickly stood up and scanned the sky but couldn't find it, even though I could tell it was very close. It turned to be a phantom plane, I guessed, making secret Thunder preparations.
Thundered Over Louisville, where they show America's military's might during the day and burn up a million dollars worth of fireworks at night. Wife asked me a few nights ago if I wanted to go to Thunder. Not in a million years. That's what Hi-Def is for, I told her, and besides, the jets that fly down the Ohio river heading east, end up screeching over our neighborhood fifteen seconds later.
During the day of Thunder, Louisville's the safest city in America. If some Taliban tries to light his underwear on fire here, we're covered. We'd blow his ass to Kingdom Come.
Matt Morris 'The Un-American' 2010.