The short answer is: over the border. The only reference I could find online was a Vancouver butcher urging you to pick up some sausages to share at your American friends' barbecue. Undeterred I decided to walk around until we came across some street parties. "Happy American Independence Day," I said to our building concierge on the way out. "Uhh...yeah, I guess it is," he replied.
That was about as excited as people got. We did find some American flags flying, faded, above a tourist tat shop where they obviously remain all year, but that was it. No fireworks, no parades, no overblown chest-thumping patriotic hubris. Disheartened, we ate fish and chips at a food truck and came home, where I heartily sang "The Star Spangled Flag" and read the Declaration of Constitution to Pete to make sure he doesn't completely forget about his birthplace. God save the President!
Upset at being an ethnic minority in an unfavourable country? You should try being Welsh.
