Independent Adults Keep the Fun of July 4th Traditions
W e get a lump in our throats when we think about the Fourth. All those early years of family picnics, sparkler burns and fights with siblings over who got to light the gold fountain. All of the watermelon seeds we spat. All of th e water bombs we launched. The firecrackers we lit!
But that was yesterday. Now, as grown - ups, you’ll probably find us attending a concert at Irvine Meadows or a patio party with friends. She loves those ideas. He, however . . . .
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SHE: Bomb the neighbors’ mailboxes again? I won’t do it. I hate getting up at 5 a.m. to watch you do your mad scientist thing.
The Coxes still aren’t speaking to us because their mailbox with the cow motif ended up looking like shrapnel with spots. And what’s this about staying home on Sunday? Let’s celebrate! It’s Independence Day, ducky!
HE: I love it when you call me barnyard animal names. And who said anything about staying home? Irvine Meadows with the Pacific Symphony sounds pretty terrific. Lots of Yankee music, fireworks, eats, and maybe, if we’re really lucky, we’ll have ants. The only other element needed for a perfect Fourth is noise, and we can do that when we get home. I’ve saved that Big Bang cannon from my adolescent terror years, and it still works perfectly. We can mount a midnight artillery barrage.
SHE: Well, midnight sounds better than the wee hours of the morning.
So, it’s settled. We’ll hit the neighborhood bash for an hour and then picnic at the concert. The question: What to wear? I’m all for the stars-and-stripes look when it comes to the Fourth. And stars are just about the hottest accent for casual wear these days. So, look for me in a red blazer, white slacks and a blue baseball hat sprinkled with silver stars. I may even paint a pair of white tennis shoes to look like the American flag.
And how would you like me in a tiny flag tattoo? The temporary variety, of course.
HE: Depends on where it is, and whether I get to erase it.
You can wear flag colors if you like, but I’m going all the way. Just today, in a local golf shop, I saw that American flag golf shirt that some of the pros have taken to wearing lately. Real stars, real stripes, real field of blue and just a bit abstract. Identifiable from two miles through smoke from bombs bursting in air.
Of course, this is shrinking violet stuff compared to what I wore on the Fourth a couple of years ago. I was in Tallinn, Estonia, with a group of Americans, and we had brought our softball gear for a Fourth of July game at the local soccer field. We even had uniform T-shirts. On the front was a garish, belligerent, splay-winged screaming American eagle, and on the back was the name of our team in block letters: Capitalist Lackeys. The Estonians, who were sniffing democracy just around the corner, loved it.
SHE: Gee, and I thought my childhood Fourth of July picnic at Tahoe was a big deal. My family didn’t get to travel much. So hitting Zephyr Cove at Lake Tahoe was a big deal for me. I strutted around in a navy blue bathing suit decorated with dripping white ice cubes and drank fresh lemonade until my sides ached.
The highlight? Not the fireworks exploding over the bright blue water, not even the ribs my uncle barbecued until they were crisp. Nope, it was the fresh peach ice cream. We made it ourselves--cranked the ice cream maker until our hands were blistered.
HE: Gee, deja vu all over again! Peach ice cream must figure in everybody’s Independence Day fantasies. There is no better food on earth. And you’re right, you must crank it out yourself or it doesn’t taste the same.
The key, I think, to a successful Fourth, is to include every bit of Americana, sappy and otherwise, you can pack into the day. Everything that’s unique to us as Americans: baseball, hot dogs, peach ice cream, Sousa and Gershwin and Copland and the Beach Boys. Block parties. Back-yard barbecues. Levi’s, ball caps, T-shirts with monsters on them with the slogan “I8LA.” Hot rod shows. Little flags for everybody to wave around.
In other words, it helps to go overboard. As Americans, we’re good at that.
SHE: Don’t forget all-day suckers, saltwater taffy and a Hula-Hoop or two. And while I’m at it: beach balls, checkers, popcorn, candy apples, licorice, cotton candy and tons of potato salad. Funny how food is what I remember the most about fun on the Fourth. That and the chance to see my three older brothers play a hot game of football on the beach. They’d always end up throwing each other in the water.
Somebody bring back the good old days.
HE: Yeah, food always tastes better with sand in it. I think we all love the Fourth not so much because of what it is but because of the effect it has on us. Once a year, we participate in a big collection of national traditions, many of which have been celebrated for more than a century and a half.
The day identifies us. It helps us remember who we are and what we stand for. It helps us remember how young we are as a nation, and how old. During the rest of the year, we have a real national talent for beating up on ourselves, so it’s natural for one day to become a little goofy with pride. We’ve earned it.
