Thursday, July 4, 2024

Going Fourth!

I often opine on Independence Day as an inspiring holiday for our nation, but today I found myself thinking about it as the thing itself and how it's been in my life. Like Christmas -- we all know the difference between the story of Christmas (awesome) and the actual celebration with loved ones (dicey). Every holiday has that kind of dichotomy -- the thing for what it celebrates and the thing for how it is. 

And I have to tell you, my Fourths of July have been a mixed bag. 

Never works out exactly as I would like.


I don't remember doing much at all when I was a kid. When I was little more than a toddler, I think I was at a parade, a big town deal with floats and stuff, but it was so far back I can barely remember anything. Later my family really didn't do anything. No parades, no fireworks. We visited relatives because it was a day off and Mom could go see her family. Then, as adults do, they sat around and talked. BORING! 

Later on there were some winners. I went to a Mets game one year, and while I don't even remember if they won the game (I think they won), the fireworks show at Shea afterward was spectacular. In 2002, my wife and I went to the local kaboomery show and it was great -- the patriotism was still thick on the ground here in the lower Hudson Valley, where many locals had been lost on 9/11. 

One July 4, after my first year in junior high, my family spent the day with a family that had enough fireworks to invade Canada. I shot off more bottle rockets in one evening than I have the entire rest of my life. Almost burned down their house, but not quite (a bottle tipped backward after I lit the fuse). In fact, it was a miracle that with alcohol-consuming adults and explosive-armed children there were no major disasters. 

For a few years the Fourth was spent at a relative's cabin in the country, something I would enjoy much, much more now than I did as a kid. Very quiet.

One year, as the Fourth loomed, I convinced a friend to get a party going at his house -- and then my parents informed me that we were going out of town for the holiday. I have never lived that down. But my friends all got even a year or so later, when I threw a party in my parents' backyard and all the guys decided to bug out because they wanted to play basketball in the park. So my parents were looking at me like Don't you have any friends anymore? It was humiliating. The guys returned later out of pity, or hunger.

More recent years have found our family unit with dogs, and we usually spend the holiday making sure no canine freaks out and goes running wild. Usually it's okay, but about five years back the idiots up the street were blowing up enough stuff to -- well, invade Canada. Poor Nipper took it hard. And it sparked an argument between my wife and Mrs. "Deuce" Baggio nearby, which my wife decidedly, comprehensively won. I could have warned the Baggios not to argue with my wife, especially when she's defending one of our dogs. 

There were other summer parties that were eventful, and even near terrible, but I think they did not land on the Fourth, so I'll leave them for another time, if at all. This year I just want to make some decent food and distract the dog when the bombs go off. I love you, America, but your birthday is not always my favorite day. 

4 comments:

  1. Used to be a huge Braves fan. One July Third night I was laying in bed watching the (then mediocre) Braves playing I don't know who, and I fell asleep during about the eighth inning. At four in the morning the next day I awaken to loud fireworks on the TV- the game had run 23 innings and they had just got around to the after-game fireworks display. I remember it caused a minor kerfluffle what with people calling 911 because of the noise. Now, of course, the sound of gunfire in my old hometown Atlanta is so pervasive no one would even wake up.

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  2. One year my brother-in-law was shooting (illegal) sky rockets and roman candles in front of my parents' home.

    He decided that it would be amusing to lay a skyrocket on its side, and let it shoot down the street.

    When it went off, it immediately curved off the street and straight into a huge ornamental bush at the corner of my parents' next door neighbors' house. That bush must have had some kind of natural oil in it because it instantly went up like a bonfire.

    I mean, this bush was six or seven feet tall and about the same in diameter, and it was roaring in seconds.

    My brother-in-law ran to get the hose from my parents' house, but he might as well have been spitting on the fire.

    The bush was absolutely consumed in about 90 seconds.

    My parents' neighbor was an unbelievably good sport about it, he went so far as to say he had been planning to get rid of it anyway.

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  3. I vaguely remember cookouts at my dad's parents' house, then off for the town fireworks. This was back when we lived in New Jersey, so late 60s-72ish. Then we moved to the NY countryside so no town fireworks, just what was on tv. Lots of Wimbledon and lawn mowing. Saw some shows when I lived in Toledo, but once I got Sparky, it has always been stay home with the dog(s)

    rbj13

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  4. @Fred

    I do believe you're right! 😁

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