We didn't have the most iconic, Norman-Rockwell Fourth of July... it was just Mom and I, and neither of us takes very naturally to this sort of thing. I patriotically worked eight hours, and we spent most of the day in the house, watching movies. Mom felt like we "ought to try to mingle, shouldn't we?" so we did attend the parade (the last half hour of it, anyway), bounced around to the different parties we'd been invited to (because everyone knows Dad), made conversation, etc.
All I have ever seen around this town are severely sun-oxidized hippies and lesbians in their fifties; but for some reason the parade drew a crowd of shockingly beautiful women with navel piercings and lower back tattoos, and those big ugly sunglasses that girls like nowadays. It's remarkable how someone can be so attractive and simultaneously so repellent... like how a moth would feel about an electric bug zapper if he was smart enough to see it coming.
The town is small, but they say ten thousand people come to see the fireworks show, and I believe it. The streets were lined with bumper-to-bumper DUI offenses as far as the eye could see; I can only imagine the pandemonium on Route 285 after the show. God bless America.
--Kevin
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