Yankee Doodle Dandy

I love the Fourth of July.  It ranks third in my list of favorite holidays.  I like that it is not celebrating the fact that I am aging like birthdays do. I like that I don't have to buy presents for anyone.  I like that if people are getting together that it is for BBQ or picnic or easy food with little fuss.  I like that people take time to make red, white and blue desserts.  

BOOM!

Small town America does the 4th right: parades, carnie rides and fireworks.  My hometown of Lancaster, NY does the 4th especially right: parade, carnie rides, fireworks AND beer tent!  Beer tent!  Outside bar with all of your family (minus kids) and people you knew in high school?  Yes.  Who cares if the beer is some sort of Genesee draft and you will pay for it tomorrow? It is the 4th and it is a beer tent!

My BFF in high school lived where we could walk to the parade, where we could walk to downtown and her house was abuzz every year on the 4th.  Her house was packed with family, friends, and acquaintances streaming in and out as they came from the festivities.  I always loved being included in that random assortment of people; tolerated as a younger teenager and included as a young adult.  It was generally the highlight of my summer.

We have been home a few times on the 4th so my kids can experience it and it is fun to watch their excitement and see how it mirrors the memories of my own.  They line up with their cousins on the street and wait for the fire trucks to throw penny candy at them.  They clap for the bands and wave at the politicians in convertibles and yell for them to throw more candy.  They are hot and sticky and drink sugary drinks and chase them with Popsicles and mouthfuls of candy.  They are excited and hyper but they can play outside all day because while it is hot, it is not 100+ hot and there is a garden hose to drink from or spray them with.

I made myself sad on 4ths in the past trying to find somewhere to recreate my small town experience.  Now I just appreciate the day for what it is; an extra day off for those that work and a reason to celebrate on a weekday for those home for the summer.  It is getting together with friends and being relaxed and easy about it when you do.  Maybe some swimming, maybe some hot dogs (tofu dogs), and maybe some sparklers as we wait for the fireworks to start.  


The other thing I realized when I stopped trying to make every 4th like the ones growing up is that the 4th is one day where it is okay to be an American.  It is one day where we wear our red, white and blue and do it with gusto.   We are not encouraged to be proud of being Americans anymore.  The world laughs and tells us that we suck at math and science. We dig through the facts we learned in history class and realize that America was actually home to a lot of misogyny, racism and genocide.  Ouch.  We forget that it is okay to be proud of the town you live in even when your sports team isn't the winner.  I can't say that is true for the state because I live in Texas and by God, this state has enough pride for ten other states at well.  I watch kids mumble through the Pledge of Allegiance or Olympic athletes forget the words to the national anthem 1/3 of the way in and think it is normal.  Until the 4th.  Until we all remember that we are Americans!  And it is not about the rich, white men who signed the Declaration of Independence.  It is about our grandparents who came through Ellis Island with a few dollars in their pocket and a few words of English.  Men and women who were so happy to be in America that they forbid their own children to learn Italian, or German or Polish.  It is about the people today crossing deserts and open oceans and risking their life on the belief that it will be better in America.  It might not, but it is the idea, that belief, that optimism that we celebrate on the 4th.  That one day where we remember what it is to be proud of the place we call home.   One day when we let our lives be part of something bigger than our own agendas and feel part of something around us.  One day when we truly believe that we are "one nation, under God" and don't think about who we are offending when we think it.  Give me an old man removing his baseball cap and placing it over his heart when he hears the tinny sound of "The Star Spangled Banner" start playing and I will give you misty eyes.  Add a small boy who copies that move and I will give you leaky tears for sure. And I know I won't be the only one.

I am not sure what our plans are exactly for tomorrow.   I plan on wearing some red, white and blue and braving some crowds and being surrounded by Americana.  I will watch toddlers melt down in red-faced tantrums and listen to my own kids beg for Sno-Cones and lemonade and offer them my warm water bottle instead.  I will watch families fight to park and fight over who carries what over to watch fireworks.  I will think it is way too hot for humans to be outside and slap mosquitoes in annoyance. Dusk will find us crashing our friend's well-stocked picnic and sitting on blankets by too many other people.  But that is okay because we are all proud to be Americans today and the Americana music will start and it will get dark and fireworks will explode and people will ooh and ahh with contentment.   I will watch the fireworks reflected in my kids' wide and happy eyes and think that once again, this is the highlight of my summer.