Velcrometer
Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
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M. Giant's Velcrometer Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks |
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Tuesday, July 04, 2006 Blown I write this entry tonight with the sound of distant explosions drifting through my open window (non-American readers, fear not; it's perfectly normal on this date). M. Small's bedtime happens to fall well before dark this time of year, and even if it didn't, he's got conjunctivitis. So if I want to watch shit blow up, I can go downstairs and watch a movie. But instead, I find my thoughts drifting to Fourth of Julys past. And my browser, as well. Yes, the holiday means that instead of a proper entry, y'all get a clip show. One of the advantages of having done this for a few years is that you can get away with cheesy shit like this once in a while. Today is M. Small's second Fourth of July, unless you count the one when he was still eating and breathing through his navel. Here's the story of his first one. A year ago today, he could sort of walk a little bit, if you followed along with him, stooped way over so you could hold onto his hands to give him balance. Now he goes down playground slides that are taller than I am. Last week, Trash and Bitter and I were fondly remembering the Fourth from two years ago. So fondly, in fact, that we were considering going out there and doing it again tonight. But again, that would have required us to foist a pinkeyed toddler on my parents for the night, which doesn't really seem in the holiday spirit. Any holiday, really. And then there are the stories of as many as I can remember before then. So that people don't feel completely screwed by this non-entry, I'd like you to take a minute to post your favorite 7/4 story in the comments section. Think of it as creating your own filler. Assuming you still have all your fingers on the morning of the fifth, of course, and don't have to type with a pencil clenched between your teeth. posted by M. Giant 8:30 PM 5 comments 5 Comments:My favorite memory of the 4th is going to the local VFW (because we were all class) and watching the fireworks with my mom and dad. We did it for years before they divorced and then we would go with just my mom. She tried, but she doesn't like fireworks so it wasn't the same.
By I always loved the 4th when I was a kid, because my parents' front yard has an absolutely perfect view of the city's fireworks, which are shot off 1/4 mile down the road at the high school stadium. All of my friends and our neighbors would gather in our yard to watch the show-both the fireworks, and the idiots who would turn down our dead-end street trying to beat the traffic afterwards. We did this for the first nineteen years of my life, until some cruel person on city council decided to move the fireworks several miles from us this year. Thoughtless. So my husband and I ate barbeque at my parents' house and watched old John Wayne movies with my dad. It was still fun, but not quite the same.
By I always loved the 4th when I was a kid, because my parents' front yard has an absolutely perfect view of the city's fireworks, which are shot off 1/4 mile down the road at the high school stadium. All of my friends and our neighbors would gather in our yard to watch the show-both the fireworks, and the idiots who would turn down our dead-end street trying to beat the traffic afterwards. We did this for the first nineteen years of my life, until some cruel person on city council decided to move the fireworks several miles from us this year. Thoughtless. So my husband and I ate barbeque at my parents' house and watched old John Wayne movies with my dad. It was still fun, but not quite the same.
By
I think I love the idea of fireworks better than the actual display. My oldest son lives out of town, my middle son and his girlfriend hate crowds and my youngest is working as a camp counselor, so my husband and I went alone. We had the chairs,the blanket, the great view of the stadium, but after the first ten minutes, it's all about waiting for that great,very brief finale. The display we chose was in a smaller suburb-so no shapes or real fancy stuff. And then the 45 minutes waiting in line to get out of the parking lot. Fortunately, I file that in my short-term memory with labor pains and hang-overs and I know we'll go again next year.
By I worked at a summer camp up in the Sierras (just above Yosemite) for a couple years after high school. Every 4th is the big annual staff-only party. 30 late teens/early twenties partying out in the woods, drinking awful shot sized concotions, sneaking off in pairs (although as the parties wore on there were fewer attempts at discretion), drunkenly trying not to set the woods on fire with the massive bonfire, and finally stumbling back through the woods happily terrified of being attacked by bears. Good times, and definitly the best time I've ever had on the 4th.
By 
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