HAPPY 4th Of July!
Growing up this Holiday was one of my favorites. As a wee one, I had no concept of time so I relied on what was going on around me to know what season was coming. Summer break from school FELT like it was a whole year long and I Loved it. Pops would put together the "above ground" pool and clean off the grill (if you are picturing him smiling and being the happy all American dad, you would be wrong... he had that look of pissed off annoyance the entire time but we were too busy to care about it. School was out and we were FREE for the next few months). When I think of this time of year as a child I have images of my sister and I eating the ice cream that came on two sticks- when mum pulled them out of the freezer you had high hopes that this time you would get the whole 'cicle but no... she always popped it into two and gave us each one. As the day wore on we would have dirty sticky faces and fingers.
Fourth of July came into view only when we started seeing the pop up wooden stands on the side of the road always near the freeway. Large red, white and blue banners announcing "FIREWORKS". Bolted front panels leading up to the big event and once the booths did open up, my sister and I would sit up from the back of the station wagon and BEG my dad to pull over. Dirt kicked up off the back wheels and we rolled to a stop in unmarked spots beside the stand. People lined up behind one another, looking over their shoulders at the chicken wire nailed up behind the sellers, displaying an array of rockets and spinners, screaming meemees , sparklers, you name it. We were never allowed to get out of the car. My sister and I would fight each other for the window seat closest to the booth and hang onto the half rolled down window. "sparklers, sparklers, sparklers," we would coach him from under our breath.
Though there was a BUNCH of really awesome things available to purchase at the time, my sister and I only knew of a few as they were the only items my dad picked up every time... flower bombs, sparklers, and snakes. For almost a week we would stare at the plastic bag filled with these colorful boxes of fireworks. Sparklers that promised the colors would change (in which they never did) and little flat pills that once lit would fizz and start crawling like a snake made of ash. We could hardly contain ourselves. And though we would BEG to light just one sparkler off prior to the holiday, we were always told no, "And if you keep asking there wont be any on the 4th for you either!"
On the day of the big event we knew when sparklers were coming as my dad would bring out an old folgers coffee can filled with water and set it down on the sidewalk next to where we were standing. We would scramble to try to snatch the stick as it came from out of the box to which my dad would glare at us and ask if we had lost our minds (at the time it felt like it as all I wanted to do was get my hand on those sticks!!) HE had to be the one to hold the stick and light it. It would fizz to life and he would start to hold it out for me to grab and then he would withdraw it, 'Hey!! Look at me when I am talking to you!" How did he expect me to concentrate on the rules of safety he was rallying off when I could see my sparkler in his hand losing valid life time? It was hard to pull my eyes off the sparkler to look at him.
The rules were easy... don't stand to close to my sister when holding the sparkler, keep my arm at full length in front of me at all times, hand all burned out sticks to my dad to toss into the water can before he would give me another.
"Look... I'm writing my name" "Look... can you tell what I'm drawing?" "I'm the statue of Liberty!" one of us would state and my dad would get mad as we had the sparkler ABOVE us instead of at arm's length in front. There was the threat of no more sparklers but we knew it would never hold. Several boxes of sparklers were gone in the blink of an eye and begging to look in the bag for more produced nothing. To distract us from grieving my dad would pull out a flat piece of wood and lay it on the side walk. There he would line up the black flat pellets a few inches apart. We were always warned not to touch them before he began striking the matches to light them off and send the "snakes crawling" but of course one of us always had to reach a finger in and touch the ash as it crawled and my dad would glance up at us with the look of death. I don't know why my sister and I liked those snakes so much but we did, we were mesmerized.
From somewhere behind us, someone would turn on the radio. It would be tuned to a station that was working with the people setting off the Big fireworks on the hill and music would be choreographed to play along with the fireworks. Growing up our house was in the perfect location to see the fireworks. People from all over would bring beach chairs to sit in the middle of the street to watch. "Ooohhh... Awwww" echoed thru the neighborhood. For one moment everyone got along, no one was a stranger as we all sat looking up into the night sky.
Happy 4th everyone!!
Fourth of July came into view only when we started seeing the pop up wooden stands on the side of the road always near the freeway. Large red, white and blue banners announcing "FIREWORKS". Bolted front panels leading up to the big event and once the booths did open up, my sister and I would sit up from the back of the station wagon and BEG my dad to pull over. Dirt kicked up off the back wheels and we rolled to a stop in unmarked spots beside the stand. People lined up behind one another, looking over their shoulders at the chicken wire nailed up behind the sellers, displaying an array of rockets and spinners, screaming meemees , sparklers, you name it. We were never allowed to get out of the car. My sister and I would fight each other for the window seat closest to the booth and hang onto the half rolled down window. "sparklers, sparklers, sparklers," we would coach him from under our breath.
Though there was a BUNCH of really awesome things available to purchase at the time, my sister and I only knew of a few as they were the only items my dad picked up every time... flower bombs, sparklers, and snakes. For almost a week we would stare at the plastic bag filled with these colorful boxes of fireworks. Sparklers that promised the colors would change (in which they never did) and little flat pills that once lit would fizz and start crawling like a snake made of ash. We could hardly contain ourselves. And though we would BEG to light just one sparkler off prior to the holiday, we were always told no, "And if you keep asking there wont be any on the 4th for you either!"
On the day of the big event we knew when sparklers were coming as my dad would bring out an old folgers coffee can filled with water and set it down on the sidewalk next to where we were standing. We would scramble to try to snatch the stick as it came from out of the box to which my dad would glare at us and ask if we had lost our minds (at the time it felt like it as all I wanted to do was get my hand on those sticks!!) HE had to be the one to hold the stick and light it. It would fizz to life and he would start to hold it out for me to grab and then he would withdraw it, 'Hey!! Look at me when I am talking to you!" How did he expect me to concentrate on the rules of safety he was rallying off when I could see my sparkler in his hand losing valid life time? It was hard to pull my eyes off the sparkler to look at him.
The rules were easy... don't stand to close to my sister when holding the sparkler, keep my arm at full length in front of me at all times, hand all burned out sticks to my dad to toss into the water can before he would give me another.
"Look... I'm writing my name" "Look... can you tell what I'm drawing?" "I'm the statue of Liberty!" one of us would state and my dad would get mad as we had the sparkler ABOVE us instead of at arm's length in front. There was the threat of no more sparklers but we knew it would never hold. Several boxes of sparklers were gone in the blink of an eye and begging to look in the bag for more produced nothing. To distract us from grieving my dad would pull out a flat piece of wood and lay it on the side walk. There he would line up the black flat pellets a few inches apart. We were always warned not to touch them before he began striking the matches to light them off and send the "snakes crawling" but of course one of us always had to reach a finger in and touch the ash as it crawled and my dad would glance up at us with the look of death. I don't know why my sister and I liked those snakes so much but we did, we were mesmerized.
From somewhere behind us, someone would turn on the radio. It would be tuned to a station that was working with the people setting off the Big fireworks on the hill and music would be choreographed to play along with the fireworks. Growing up our house was in the perfect location to see the fireworks. People from all over would bring beach chairs to sit in the middle of the street to watch. "Ooohhh... Awwww" echoed thru the neighborhood. For one moment everyone got along, no one was a stranger as we all sat looking up into the night sky.
Happy 4th everyone!!