I don’t like hot dogs.
I’m not always in love with America.
I don’t enjoy bad music, just because it has a patriotic message.
I don’t get fireworks.
and frankly I don’t really care about the fourth of july.
Before you label me some terrorist, let me clarify.
I think its nice that people get together & celebrate. Cookouts with friends & coming together is great for community. Who doesn’t enjoy a reason to eat good, laugh & drink a few?
But fireworks I don’t get.
Blow shit up? How very redneck. I think it started as a way to remember the explosions from the battle for independence, but what a violent way to “celebrate”. Plus why celebrate a mentality that typically gets shunned? Rebels, freedom fighters, patriots (not the political party trying to get re-elected type) usually are shunned. Now we get all fired up & act like we don’t all act like sheep marching to the beat of the federal drum?
Its pretty & a sight you don’t always see, but its bizarre to me.
We aren’t going to be playing a yearly game of jenga to honor the events of 9/11.
Dunno. I’m tired.
Don’t worry. I hung with family. Chatted with friends. Wore a red shirt. Ate watermelon. Had a burger & even burned up some gas on the American open roads driving. Still just feels a bit like a regular old summer weekend.
Long weekend helping my sister clear out her house & part with some memories left behind when my grandparents passed. My grandfather passed away on a fourth of July years ago. Seemed fitting a day as any for him to go, but puts a damper on the day. Finding a few memories like Belgium coins he got while serving over seas in protection of this land, shirts I remember him wearing with the pocket in front for his Salems, the train he bought for us as kids… just reminds me of the hole he left here in our family. Still miss so many things he did. Like slicing up a great watermelon, which he might have grown in his garden along with any other vegetable you could name. Or having homemade ice cream on a hot day – especially birthdays!
I also remember sleep overs & how some how he did make hot dogs that tasted different than the ones my parents fed us. The ketchup bottle with the pump top I found fascinating in contrast to the bottle from the store we used at home. I no longer eat hot dogs, but the memory of those dinners is a keeper.
I also remember clearly getting the call that he passed away. Don’t remember much else from that fourth. Just that I had planned on going to see the fireworks & that didn’t work out.
Just slightly scary how much one person can mean to your life & how when they leave, you just adapt and open up to other people.
So who knows.
Maybe one day I will feel more into it all.
One day I may turn into my Dad who always got us excited about going to see the fireworks. With him, the massive explosions of sulfur, salt peter, charcoal added with a spark become magical glitter in the sky.
….& everything is better with a bit of glitter