Oh sweet summertime
July 8, 2010 § 2 Comments
I hope everyone had a wonderful and patriotic 4th of July holiday! I had a great time. There was beer. There was kielbasa. There were peppers and onions. There was even some moonshine. But we won’t talk about the moonshine. I basically spent the entire day in the pool. First I was at Brittany’s house in their amazing pool, floating around on the rafts with her and some friends. Later on I went to Dustin’s house with Danny and swam there too! Also sat in the hot tub for awhile. We had tons of good food and drinks. Then we set off the fireworks.
Now if you’ve never had the pleasure of hanging out with me on the 4th of July, you probably have no idea of my feelings towards fireworks. So let’s give this the explanation it deserves. Imagine you are there, on Dustin’s lawn, feeling the cool green grass tickle your feet, watching as the dusk settles on the hills in the distance. It grows darker. The guys bring out the fireworks, all the rockets and tubes and boxes and grenades that you could desire. Heavy duty stuff. And let’s not forget the big guy: the Atomizer. A red box, nine tubes sticking up, about the size of a normal microwave. This is the Atomizer and it is sitting a mere two feet from you. It’s basically guaranteed to send up a small mushroom cloud over West Pittston. You are relaxed though. You feel the breeze, it’s very slight. Not enough to worry about drifting cinders and debris landing on the roof of the house. Suddenly, I approach you, babbling about how much I love fireworks and how I won’t need to borrow a lighter from the smokers this year, because I was prepared and bought my own. I show it to you, it’s pink plastic. It’s a lighter and it’s not even a Bic. Why am I so excited? You watch me curiously as I turn away and bounce back to the carelessly sprawling mound of fireworks. I rub my hands together gleefully, give a maniacal cackle, and then select a few rockets. I have no fear. I tear off the packaging, trot to the tubes and slide the firework in. With a flick and a whoosh of flame, I light the wick. The dancing sparks illuminate my crazy grin and the whites of my eyes as I scamper back to a safe distance. The thunderous boom rattles the windows and we all follow the line of fire up into the sky. It explodes and colors glow bright against the velvet blue night. Red, green, purple, white flowers blossom in the sky and momentarily blind us. They hover for a split second and then wilt far too soon. The dull orange embers trail downward, slowly, floating, most dying before they come anywhere near the ground. When you finally turn your gaze back down to earth, you can see me out of the corner of your eye. I’m still staring up at the sky, clapping my hands in an expression of child-like amazement, and the unabashed joy in my face makes you smile. You start to remember why we are celebrating this day. And that we are proud to be Americans not because of our shiny things and our fancy gadgets, but because in America we are brave and free. Free to be dazzled by something as simple and bright as lights in the sky. Then, of course, I whirl around and light off some more.