Yeah, this one’s a bit early but I only get the keys on Wednesdays.
The tiny little place where I live really goes all out on Fourth of July (and also on Halloween, but that’s a different post). Everything shuts down and everyone goes down to the town square or as close as they can get to it. That is, everyone who isn’t in the parade. It’s a toss up whether there’s more people marching or watching from the sidelines but the important thing is, everyone goes: the old people, the high school Shakespeare troupe, hippies young and old, ranchers and artists, yuppies and tourists, everyone shows up.
The video below is from a few years ago when I marched with my naturalist group — I was in the kazoo corps. We were behind a float carrying Mother Nature and a bunch of other folks sitting on bales of hay. Immediately after the parade, a huge rainstorm hit, so everyone in town was caught in it at the same time, which was almost as much fun as the parade. It was a good time and I get a catch in my throat watching this because there’s something so uncomplicated about it, even though it’s not without irony, or even absurdity.
It’s not everyone’s storybook ideal, but it’s damn close to what I used to think Fourth of Julyshould be. Even though it’s completely impossible to forget a great many things that have torn that ideal all to hell for me, I can’t help reflexively pledging allegiance to the whole crazy, raggedy, imperfect mess.
More kazoo awesomenesshere.