By MONTE DUTTON

On Friday night, the fireworks went off Adventure Village. I’d had a frustrating day with a new computer. (Still am.) I stopped by the office to see if The Transylvania Times had arrived. It hadn’t, but back at the shoe box, a circular was on the picnic table outside.

Shooting on the 3rd at Adventure Village & Lodging! Join us for a night to remember!

I wrestled with the endless irritations of talking with someone in India who couldn’t help me. After I said, for the umpteenth time, that if I had to drive back to Asheville one more time, I was turning in the equipment for a full refund, she got someone on the line from the actual store I had left a couple hours earlier, and things got better.

Not much better, but grudging progress. The wi-fi works better. I don’t think I’m going to have to visit the new provider for the third time. I watched Argentina edge Cape Verde, 3-2, in the World Cup. I started walking down to watch the fireworks, but I felt a bit puny because I hadn’t eaten much, so I walked back and took the truck to a nearby “wanna-sack” (“you wanna sack with that?”) for a soft drink, some cashews and Lance crackers. I sat in the truck, watching the rockets’ red glare and bombs bursting in air, and at the end, our flag was still there.

I grew up on the farm never knowing that fireworks are unsettling for pets. When they started, all the communal ducks started squawking and heading this way and that. To borrow a cliche normally reserved for chickens, they acted as if their heads had been cut off. Next to me, a toddler cried out when the explosions began, but shortly he became fascinated and started chortling merrily.

The crowd was huge. Folks nearby were parked on the highway and across the road from the entrance. They gathered around the pond and swimming pool, on the bodega between them and on the back deck of the clubhouse. The display lasted a long time, closing with a long crescendo, every bit as good as the shows held at the end of minor-league baseball games. Oohs. Ahs. Yells of patriotic fervor: “USA! USA!” Widespread applause at the end, with smoke hanging in the air. No politicians that I knew of. (Then again, I don’t know of local politicians yet.) A lot of folks at Adventureland are transients, camping here in travel trailers, tents and cabins. Relatively few of us, yours truly among them, are establishing roots.

The show waited until dark, which pleased me. Back in the NASCAR days, fireworks displays often greeted the end of races, even though it was still broad daylight. I was fond of saying, sarcastically, “Nothing I love more than daytime fireworks.”

It was likely the highlight of the Adventureland year, which was a welcome surprise since I didn’t know about it until late afternoon. Wrangling with a new computer is no fun. I watch TV on my computer, which is why I bought a desktop for the first time in many years.

I’m still waiting for a ride back to Clinton, where my old Ford pickup awaits. I can’t wait to shift gears through the curving mountain roads. I’ve got innumerable tasks — new driver’s license, plates, taxes, registering to vote and returning the old wi-fi equipment to the dropped provider —    but I’m chipping away.

For all our problems, God bless the USA. The joy of soccer fans from around the world provides testimony to the fact that we’ve still got it good.

Wellpilgrim.com takes its name from John Wayne, who liked the phrase, and the Kris Kristofferson song “The Pilgrim: Chapter 33, Hang on, Hopper.” The title of the site comes from my favorite song, Michael Burton’s “Nightrider’s Lament.”

If you’d like to contribute to the site, I can be reached at Adventure Village #6, 15 Adventure Ridge Road, Brevard, N.C.    28712.

I’d appreciate it if you’d consider buying one or two or five of my books, which are available on Amazon and at other bookseller site. Two novels, Cowboys Come Home and Lightning in a Bottle, are available in audible versions.