Took Darcy for a walk this morning. Here's what I saw.

July 4, 2026. Our neighborhood.

I took our dog, Darcy, for a walk around the residential neighborhood this morning. Not that I had a lot of choice. She’s small for an Anatolian Shepherd—85 pounds. But she’s still an Anatolian—independent thinker, stubborn, talkative when she wants what she wants. She’s figured out that we need to be out of the house around 9:00 am in the summer, around 4:00 pm in the winter. We stay in the same part of the neighborhood, winding streets, about 20 blocks altogether. I like to talk with people I meet, let the dogs sniff each other if they have a dog. If they don’t have a dog, Darcy will cautiously wag her tail at them.

Here’s what I noticed today: Maybe 10% of the houses have larger American flags flying, double the number that are usually flying. 4th of July.

Darcy taking a break in her hippy harness and leash.

The heat index is already 87°F, 30.6°C. The old Chinese guy I see slowly walking along almost every day. We’ve never had a conversation. I always say, “Howdy,” and wave, and he waves back. He’s got to be somewhere between 90 and 110, and he was out putting a small American flag at the end of his sidewalk. I waved; he waved back. Normal morning.

There are four Middle Eastern families who I don’t really know. We now always say hi and wave, and sometimes chat for a few minutes. Two of them have three or four-year olds, or about the age. One of them is very shy, hides behind her mom. One of them isn’t, and gently pats Darcy. Every one of them had small American flags lining their sidewalks. Not sure they coordinated it, or if it just turned out that way.

The Latin American family who lives on one corner had a large American flag flying and flags lining the sidewalk.

They live next door to the white family, and across the street from one of the Middle Eastern families. Most days I see their kids riding their bicycles around the neighborhood. How do I know they’re their kids? Because I’ve met them. They’ll meet at the corner of the street in the shade of one of the trees. I say howdy. They say hi. Darcy cautious wags. One of them scratches her under her chin.

The Japanese couple who just moved in a month or so ago. His wife and I waved at each other the day they moved in. A couple of days later, her husband was out doing some yard work. Darcy and I were walking by. I said howdy. He stood up and came over to me. We shook hands and introduced ourselves. Welcomed him to the neighborhood. We were laughing because he had to say his name five times before I got it right. Only two syllables. Still.

Our neighborhood is an older established one, larger houses, and homes are starting to come on the market. Kids have moved out, they’re downsizing and moving on. We’ve only lived here for six years. So far, I haven’t really seen our section of the neighborhood change that much.

Walking around the neighborhood, talking with people in the grocery store—feels pretty good to be here. And now having the World Cup here in America and reading social media posts from people, sending the message back home that Americans are not quite all what they hear about in the news. A couple of things I was reminded of from our visitors.

We’re friendly—apparently A LOT friendlier than they expected. We talk and laugh together.

We’re a big country and we have big stores that are open 24x7 with lots of stuff. Oh, yeah—Buc-ees.

We have great food, like Texas barbecue, sweet tea, biscuits and gravy, grits, Philly cheesesteaks, New York bagels, hot wings, and chicken and waffles. Also Chicago-style deep-dish pizza; it may not be a Conan’s Barbarian deep-dish in Austin, but it’s still amazingly good. We have tons of international restaurants that deliver a diversity of gastronomic delights. Did I mention Texas barbecue and sweet tea?

Oh yeah—don’t forget the Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing. It’s still a liquid and goes in your checked luggage, but the packets can go in your carry on.

We’ll drink Boston dry with them—twice. It’s okay to wake up at bagpipes one morning. The Japanese set a new standard for cleaning up the stadium after a match. “Blue bags.” Who knew? Apparently the Japanese. Maybe it’ll catch on after they go home.

They still believe that America is the land opportunity.

Sports and sportsmanship are international. It reminds of the honor that we actually do still have. And demonstrate.

Yeah. I’m proud to be an American, and I grateful to all of the people from all of the nations in the world who have reminded me of that. And they are equally proud of their countries, and quite understandably so. “Our neighborhood” and how we define it is a lot bigger than we recognize it sometimes. How quickly goodwill breaks out when we come together. How decency appears without invitation. That being together and shared experiences—in good times, or times of disaster—brings out the best in us. Breaking bread together is one of the most significant actions we can take, as friends and neighbors, as communities, as nations. We really are all in this together. I have great hope for the future.