"Hey baby, it's the 4th of July"
(So much for my attempt to write on every single day this month, I missed yesterday. Perhaps I should aim for every other day).
The title of this blog entry comes from the song "4th of July" by the great band, X. It's a song that's not so much about the 4th of July, but about a disintegrating relationship. The protagonist of the song is depressed, smoking a cigarette alone, while "Mexican kids are shootin' fireworks below." The joyful festivities mock his sadness. I love this song, and have always tried to play it on July 4 (but haven't done so in several years).
Did the usual 4th of July stuff--went to the beach, drank a beer, saw a parade, and saw some fireworks from the backyard of my house.
Returned home from Saugatuck, a cute (albeit trendy and ritzy) Lake Michigan coastal community. Hit the beach there, ate a late lunch at Chequers, a fish-and-chips joint in town that we like, and were also able to see the Saugatuck 4th of July party outside the window of the restaurant.
I always feel jealous when I'm in Saugatuck, which during the summer seems exclusively populated by wealthy denizens of Chicagoland, with their BMWs, sailboats, and cottages larger than my own house. I can't help but feel myself resentful of all these Illinois license plates invading our state. Part of me thinks, "Oh, I see how it is, your boring state doesn't have any good vacation spots, so you have to invade our turf." Shouldn't complain too much though, it seems that tourism is about the only economy my state has right now. Michigan may not have any money anymore, but at least we have our looks.
Came home late in the afternoon, feeling tired. My oldest son wanted to light sparklers in the early evening. I went outside with him for awhile until I was quickly devoured by mosquitoes.
The 4th of July is one of my least favorite holidays, I must confess, and no, it's not because I don't "love my country." Why must we celebrate the day by blowing stuff up? Is it typically American that we must honor our nation's birth by making loud noises, setting things on fire, and blasting fireworks skyward all day long? I don't necessarily dislike fireworks (I feel about them the same way I think of Brussel sprouts--don't seek them out, but they're okay if encountered), I just think they're overrated. My idea of great fun is not loading my kids in the car at 9:30 PM, fighting traffic to get to the fireworks display, prowling stealthily for a place to park, getting sucked dry by marauding mosquitoes, and having to endure hordes of the usual drunken louts and hooligans igniting their own loud, obnoxious, probably illegal and unquestionably dangerous fireworks while they're waiting for the real municipal fireworks to go off. The actual professional fireworks display we've come to see lasts all of a half-hour, then it's load everything back in the car, fight more traffic, and, once you're home, try to get your overly tired and cranky kids to bed. Call me an unpatriotic, misanthropic killjoy, but the 4th of July really does little for me.
Anyway, went out behind our house and saw some of the Meridian Township fireworks before the mosquito situation once again drove me back in the house. I'm happy to live in a location where I don't need to drive to the fireworks if I don't want to, so I was able to see enough (about 5 minutes worth) to satisfy me. My wife and oldest son stayed outside for the duration, God bless 'em.
The title of this blog entry comes from the song "4th of July" by the great band, X. It's a song that's not so much about the 4th of July, but about a disintegrating relationship. The protagonist of the song is depressed, smoking a cigarette alone, while "Mexican kids are shootin' fireworks below." The joyful festivities mock his sadness. I love this song, and have always tried to play it on July 4 (but haven't done so in several years).
Did the usual 4th of July stuff--went to the beach, drank a beer, saw a parade, and saw some fireworks from the backyard of my house.
Returned home from Saugatuck, a cute (albeit trendy and ritzy) Lake Michigan coastal community. Hit the beach there, ate a late lunch at Chequers, a fish-and-chips joint in town that we like, and were also able to see the Saugatuck 4th of July party outside the window of the restaurant.
I always feel jealous when I'm in Saugatuck, which during the summer seems exclusively populated by wealthy denizens of Chicagoland, with their BMWs, sailboats, and cottages larger than my own house. I can't help but feel myself resentful of all these Illinois license plates invading our state. Part of me thinks, "Oh, I see how it is, your boring state doesn't have any good vacation spots, so you have to invade our turf." Shouldn't complain too much though, it seems that tourism is about the only economy my state has right now. Michigan may not have any money anymore, but at least we have our looks.
Came home late in the afternoon, feeling tired. My oldest son wanted to light sparklers in the early evening. I went outside with him for awhile until I was quickly devoured by mosquitoes.
The 4th of July is one of my least favorite holidays, I must confess, and no, it's not because I don't "love my country." Why must we celebrate the day by blowing stuff up? Is it typically American that we must honor our nation's birth by making loud noises, setting things on fire, and blasting fireworks skyward all day long? I don't necessarily dislike fireworks (I feel about them the same way I think of Brussel sprouts--don't seek them out, but they're okay if encountered), I just think they're overrated. My idea of great fun is not loading my kids in the car at 9:30 PM, fighting traffic to get to the fireworks display, prowling stealthily for a place to park, getting sucked dry by marauding mosquitoes, and having to endure hordes of the usual drunken louts and hooligans igniting their own loud, obnoxious, probably illegal and unquestionably dangerous fireworks while they're waiting for the real municipal fireworks to go off. The actual professional fireworks display we've come to see lasts all of a half-hour, then it's load everything back in the car, fight more traffic, and, once you're home, try to get your overly tired and cranky kids to bed. Call me an unpatriotic, misanthropic killjoy, but the 4th of July really does little for me.
Anyway, went out behind our house and saw some of the Meridian Township fireworks before the mosquito situation once again drove me back in the house. I'm happy to live in a location where I don't need to drive to the fireworks if I don't want to, so I was able to see enough (about 5 minutes worth) to satisfy me. My wife and oldest son stayed outside for the duration, God bless 'em.
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