GeekGirlCon Blog

Why I Love the Fourth of July

Well, folks… it’s that time of year again! Time for planning barbeques, buying fireworks, and trying not to be maimed or seriously injured by said fireworks. That’s right y’all! It’s Independence Day!

For many people, and in latter years I think particularly, the Fourth of July is a mixed bag of emotions. Everyone loves an excuse to have friends and family gather around to gorge themselves on Costco hot dogs, vats of potato salad, and luscious summer watermelon. The weather is (generally) pretty good in most places of the US, and it is a day off work for many to celebrate the bravery of the founding fathers.

But with the good can also come the bad… Political tensions are running high. Fireworks can often be seen as a nuisance. Perhaps you are a person suffering from PTSD, a small child scared of loud noises, or a pet fearing the apocalypse. Or maybe you are just a person who enjoys peace and quiet, which is okay too. No one likes being taken off-guard by the random whims of the neighbor down the street who only get the kind of fireworks that are so loud they rattle your windows. Beyond that, fireworks are expensive and are also a safety hazard when handled improperly.

When asked, most people will proclaim Thanksgiving or Halloween as their favorite holiday, but I would have to say that the Fourth of July is one of mine for a very special reason.

When I was little, we were pretty poor. My dad worked a crummy construction job for a slum lord and my mom was a bookkeeper for a few small businesses. While my parents always made sure that we always had everything we needed, with three kids there wasn’t a lot of room in the budget for luxuries.

As an adult, I now kind of see fireworks as a symbol of literally burning money, so it is surprising to me that my father would insist that we buy fireworks every year, even if it was just a few. My town was small and there wasn’t a community fireworks show until I was older, so if you wanted fireworks you had to buy them yourself. I remember getting positively giddy when I would see the small Lion’s Club stand being erected in the grocery store parking lot at the end of every June. I would scour the couch for coins, saving up to buy my favorite firework, The Climbing Panda. As the calendar flipped from June to July, I could barely contain my enthusiasm, and sure enough, the time came to purchase our fireworks to celebrate America’s birthday.

I was the middle child of three. My older sister was a strong willed wild-child, and my younger brother always needed more attention as the baby. With young kids and working full time, it is hard to find one-on-one time with any of your children, but my dad made it happen for me every Fourth of July. A few days before the big day, my dad would scoop me up and whisk me away to the store to pick out the fireworks, just the two of us.

I would hold his hand as we walked up to the red shack, savoring the scent of gunpowder. It was so unlike any smells that I would encounter normally and it acted like a stimulant to my excitable mind. I would stand on the little wooden steps that the proprietors placed before the stand so that the smaller patrons (ie, me) could see over the counter. I remember emptying the coins from my pocket, carefully counting them out, and asking politely for a Climbing Panda. Looking back on it now, it is slightly laughable that the Lion’s Club would sell a small explosive to a six-year-old, even if I was accompanied by an adult.

My dad and I would look over the wares of the stand carefully, calculating out how many sparklers we would need. Ten in a box, three kids (plus some of the neighborhood kids), two adults, and at least one box of each color. We would pick up a few Roman Candles, some smoke bombs and ground flowers. Then my dad would point to a twenty dollar pack of bigger fireworks, and I would goggle at the fortune he was spending on something that would only last for a night. Twenty dollars seemed like quite a lot compared to my ninety-nine cent panda.

Once the sun went down on the evening of the Fourth, we would get to show off our selections to my family and the neighbors. We would pretend to be fairy queens with sparklers, and army commandos with the multi-colored smoke bombs. Pop-its littered the sidewalk as ground flowers glowed in their short, whirlwind blooms. Dad would be the lead technician, always stressing safety when enjoying fireworks. I would snuggle in a blanket near my mom as we watched the glow and pop of the mostly fountain-style fireworks, and most of all, my Climbing Panda. And in a whiff of sulfur, it was over and it was time for bed.

Now I am an adult, and my dad and I aren’t on speaking terms. Life happens, and the years go by, and all that other cliche stuff. Oddly though, even after all these years and everything that went down with my dad, I still get excited about the Fourth of July. I will walk into a fireworks tent, smell the gunpowder, and I am instantly transported back to being a little girl counting out sticky pennies to buy a tiny firework. And I remember how much fun I had with my dad.

Fireworks are kinda like life, yeah? An expensive and inconvenient nuisance that might burn you, but beautiful to behold, best shared with friends and family, and over far too quickly. So, things might not be great now–like my relationship with my dad, or the state of our country–but that doesn’t stop me from looking forward to better times. And when those better times come, I will appreciate them all the more for knowing that the moment is fleeting.

That is why I love the Fourth of July.

Happy Independence Day everyone! If you are planning on enjoying fireworks, always practice proper fireworks safety! And please remember to be courteous to your neighbors.

Rebecca Anglesey
“Rock On!”

Reflections on a Holiday

Image courtesy of nirots / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Written by GeekGirlCon Copy Writer Sarah “SG-1” Grant

In my hometown of South Milwaukee, Wisconsin, there was a July 4 parade every year. When I was really young, there was a competition for the best decorated vehicle (cars not included). This meant bicycles, tricycles, little red wagons, and homemade carts pulled by dogs. Or other family members. I always decorated my sparkly blue bike with the banana seat with tissue paper, streamers, and pinwheels–all in red in red and white, since my bike was already blue.

When I got to junior high, we began going to downtown Milwaukee to watch the Great Circus Parade, started by The Ringling Brothers and based in Baraboo, Wisconsin. My brother was a freshman in high school when I was in 7th grade, and he played in the South Milwaukee High School Marching Band, which marched in the 5 miles long parade every year. So we would get up very early and head downtown with our lawn chairs, cooler full of food and drink, and the umbrellas–just in case it rained, which it sometimes did (especially if we forgot the umbrellas). We would watch all the marching bands, the acrobats, the caged animals in horse-drawn carts, the elephants, and the 40-horse hitch that was the Budweiser wagon–just like the ones in the Super Bowl commercials. The end of the parade was always announced by the fire engines, and then followed up by the street cleaners–there were a lot of animals relieving themselves during that parade!

Great Circus Parade bandwagon

 Image credit: Wikipedia

I marched in the Circus Parade when I got to the high school as well, first playing piccolo, and then the bass drum. My brother had played the bass drum, and when he graduated, our band director discovered that my brother was the only drummer who could walk and keep a beat. She assigned me to the bass drum immediately, and I was one of the only bass drummers in our band to make it through the entire parade without passing out.

There were always fireworks in Grant Park, right on Lake Michigan. The majority of people in South Milwaukee (population 21,069) gathered in the biggest meadow with their blankets, children, sparklers, and–most importantly–multiple cans of mosquito spray. Even the crowds of people doused in mosquito spray couldn’t protect those of us who didn’t have our spray, but thankfully there was always someone generous enough to share. My parents never let us have sparklers–much too dangerous for us kids–but lying back on our blankets to watch the fireworks was one of the highlights of the year. The only thing better was Santa Claus!

My next favorite memory of July 4 is after I graduated college at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and spent two years in Madison as a working stiff. There’s a show there every year called Rhythm and Booms that is set to music played simultaneously on the radio. It was a much larger show than South Milwaukee’s, and the best place to watch it was the north side of Madison–along with everyone else in the city, of course. A good friend of mine bought a house a block from the park, and we sat out on his lawn to watch the fireworks with our beer, grilled brats, lots of good friends, and the ever-present mosquito spray. Those nights I rarely got home before 1 a.m. because traffic out of the area was so bad, even though it was usually only a 15 minute drive.

I have lived in Seattle for almost 9 years now, and I haven’t been to the Lake Union fireworks even once–far too many people for me! For the past 5 or 6 years, I’ve driven to Kirkland, where my friends have a condo right on Lake Washington. The barge where Kirkland’s fireworks are set off is always set straight out from the back porch, so we gather around 8 p.m. for drinks and dessert, and we wait for the fireworks. They’re not as spectacular as the Lake Union fireworks, some of which we can see from where we are, but it’s like having our own private fireworks show. It lasts just long enough that I start feeling edgy from all the explosions, and then it’s done–and you hear the applause and cheering from all around.

Image credit: Aaron McCaughey

July 4 is Independence Day, and every year of my life, it has meant parties, marching bands, friends, family, food, and fireworks. This year is going to be special for me, because my roommate and best friend for more years than I’m willing to say will be there with me, and so will my mom–whose birthday was July 3, so happy birthday, Mom! The day started as a celebration of our independence from Great Britain, but for me, it’s about coming together with my friends and family without the pressure of presents or anything other than not burning myself with the sparklers–which my mom finally allowed me to light a few years ago.

Whatever you do for your July 4, whether it’s celebration with friends and family or spending the day in solitude, I hope your holiday is as bright and pretty as a the fireworks will be tonight.

GeekGirlCon
“Rock On!”