I think I'm getting old, this 4th I spent the whole day thinking about being a kid and what we did on the 4th. Really, it was nothing special, but something about it was to me. The 4th is one of my dad's 3 "high holidays", the former Marine is patriotic to the core, and loved being able to show it.
The day usually began with everyone sleeping in, a family tradition in my parent's house, and ended with mosquito bites and smoking monkeys. But,what fell in between, simple though it was, holds magic in my memories. Dad always mowed the lawn on the 4th. I vividly remember swinging while he mowed the lawn around me, all the while blaring his Marine Corp Band records. Sousa serenaded us as the grass flew around us. I remember the pride that swelled in him as he loudly, and not very well, sang along. To this day I can remember most of the words to Stars and Stripes Forever, and rarely lapse into verses about ducks.
Once the lawn was done, he'd smoke a cigar, usually my mother was in the house, so he made use he wasn't caught. Then, the real fun could begin, snakes. I'm still not sure why they are so fun, but we could watch him light snakes with his cigar for hours and still not get enough. Like all the men in my life, my dad liked to play with fire, so he would spend hours getting the charcoal grill "just right". Of course, this usually meant throwing in a few firecrackers, just to test it out.
Most of the fun we had is now illegal, small fireworks and the like, but back then, we would beg and plead for him to light bottle rockets. Dad is in publishing, and his proofs and film came in long tubes, which happen to be perfect for launching bottle rockets. After a while, my mother, the nurse, would come out and give us the "someone's going to get hurt" speech. Once she was back in the house, though, Dad went back to it!
The rest of the day was pretty similar to most people's BBQ, and fireworks. We always left at 7:30, in jeans that we had out grown since last required to wear them a month prior. Like I said, really, it was nothing special, but looking back, my eyes tear and I smile from the simple beauty of it all. This year is rainy and cold, but you never know what memories will be made.
1 comment:
My grandfather, a Navy vet from WWII, had a big bar-b-q pit at his house and spent alllllll day smoking ribs on it. He smoked cigars and drank beer and listened to the Cardinals on his radio, all the while holding forth on just about any subject imaginable. We drank Pepsis (stored in the same fridge in the shed that his beer was stored in), played croquet (grandpa cheated shamelessly - a big part of the game was trying to catch him at it) and once they were done, pigged out on his ribs.
There were sparklers and such. And as twilight fell we caught fireflies. Sheer heaven. God rest his soul too.
Post a Comment