(no subject)
Jul. 4th, 2024 10:21 amI miss when the 4th of July meant something beyond "crap, I'm not gonna get as much sleep." Pretty sure we never spent the 4th at my grandmother's, but I won't swear to it because I'm basing this 100% on having no memory of them getting fireworks or sparklers and you cannot convince me none of my uncles would've broken them out, particularly when goaded by all the other family members at the reunion. This means all my 4th memories as a kid are from my grandfather's, and usually things would shake out this way:
Spend as much of the day outside as possible, out of the way of any and all adults. Frequently this would involve the kiddie pool in the backyard, but sometimes that was saved for our birthdays for fear we'd kill it before said birthdays. Pretty sure more often than not Mom and Dad would grill. I'd say Dad would grill but I honestly remember Mom doing just as much grilling as dad, though she tended to do the prep (and cleanup) and he'd set things on fire.
I only have one big memory of this, though, and it's one I can't swear is even the 4th, and not just some random early summer day. Early summer because I vividly remember the grass and leaves outside being that bright green that disappears by mid-July as everything slowly becomes sunbleached and lifeless. I remember running through the yard, and popping inside to check on the ETA for dinner, and found the parents settling in to watch Superman. I joined in, though knowing me, I probably left before the end because kid!me was very good at making it 3/4 of the way through movies/shows and then bailing for whatever reason.
Anyway, back to the confirmed 4th traditions. It almost always threatened to storm out the fireworks but I only remember having to watch the fireworks on TV once. Every other year my brother and I would head outside while the adults (Mom, Dad, my grandfather when he was there) did whatever adults did, safe in the knowledge that when the fireworks would start, the boy and I would let them know. Post-hurricane we could see bits of two or three firework displays, but mostly we'd watch the Brittlebank Park display, as we could see almost all of it from our front porch. I remember standing on the bench in the front yard so I could see the yacht club's fireworks, though we tended to only get to really see their finale. Once their show was over, you had about 5-15 minutes before the real party started, and we'd run and get Mom. Now that I think about it, I don't really remember Dad being a big part of the watching of fireworks then. Maybe because of the aforementioned rain that frequently delayed things and he usually had to work in the morning.
When we moved, we did spend one year trying to catch the fireworks on one of the bridges because we either couldn't see the fireworks from the new place that year or maybe they just wanted to try something new. I don't remember it being a great idea, probably because everyone else in town was pulling something similar. I do know that one of our first years after the move, Mom got a shitton of fireworks and we set them off in the backyard. And by we, I think I mean Dad and my brother. I like fireworks from a distance; I have no desire to chance blowing myself up. Sparklers are enough, thanks. Every other year at that house we'd watch the neighbors try and blow up the neighborhood. Not fun as it always felt like at least one would go rogue and fly over our house, or try to fly into the house.
Now I consider myself lucky if I catch sight of any on the way to work.
So, if you're celebrating, watch some fireworks for me.
Spend as much of the day outside as possible, out of the way of any and all adults. Frequently this would involve the kiddie pool in the backyard, but sometimes that was saved for our birthdays for fear we'd kill it before said birthdays. Pretty sure more often than not Mom and Dad would grill. I'd say Dad would grill but I honestly remember Mom doing just as much grilling as dad, though she tended to do the prep (and cleanup) and he'd set things on fire.
I only have one big memory of this, though, and it's one I can't swear is even the 4th, and not just some random early summer day. Early summer because I vividly remember the grass and leaves outside being that bright green that disappears by mid-July as everything slowly becomes sunbleached and lifeless. I remember running through the yard, and popping inside to check on the ETA for dinner, and found the parents settling in to watch Superman. I joined in, though knowing me, I probably left before the end because kid!me was very good at making it 3/4 of the way through movies/shows and then bailing for whatever reason.
Anyway, back to the confirmed 4th traditions. It almost always threatened to storm out the fireworks but I only remember having to watch the fireworks on TV once. Every other year my brother and I would head outside while the adults (Mom, Dad, my grandfather when he was there) did whatever adults did, safe in the knowledge that when the fireworks would start, the boy and I would let them know. Post-hurricane we could see bits of two or three firework displays, but mostly we'd watch the Brittlebank Park display, as we could see almost all of it from our front porch. I remember standing on the bench in the front yard so I could see the yacht club's fireworks, though we tended to only get to really see their finale. Once their show was over, you had about 5-15 minutes before the real party started, and we'd run and get Mom. Now that I think about it, I don't really remember Dad being a big part of the watching of fireworks then. Maybe because of the aforementioned rain that frequently delayed things and he usually had to work in the morning.
When we moved, we did spend one year trying to catch the fireworks on one of the bridges because we either couldn't see the fireworks from the new place that year or maybe they just wanted to try something new. I don't remember it being a great idea, probably because everyone else in town was pulling something similar. I do know that one of our first years after the move, Mom got a shitton of fireworks and we set them off in the backyard. And by we, I think I mean Dad and my brother. I like fireworks from a distance; I have no desire to chance blowing myself up. Sparklers are enough, thanks. Every other year at that house we'd watch the neighbors try and blow up the neighborhood. Not fun as it always felt like at least one would go rogue and fly over our house, or try to fly into the house.
Now I consider myself lucky if I catch sight of any on the way to work.
So, if you're celebrating, watch some fireworks for me.