I've got more than my fair share of good 4th of July experiences. Here's a smattering...
--my dad, back in the 70's, wearing his British flag shorts. They were covered in itsy bitsy Union Jacks. I knew this was scandalous, but being 5 years old, I wasn't sure why.
--shopping for fireworks with my dad. Sure, there were the roadside stands by the grocery store, but we'd go to the bricks-n-mortar real-deal firework store.
--going to the 4th of July parade in 1976. My mom made a red, white and blue quilt that year (that is now a very very very shred-y affair and rides in my car for impromptu picnics). I think that's the year we all got sunburned feet because we were all wearing sandals. We put our feet in my kiddie pool for relief and ate hot dogs.
--watching fireworks go off over Dillon Reservoir. They filled the valley perfectly and were reflected in the lake. The sound would reverberate against the mountains, making it seem like four times as many had gone off. And we'd always smirk at the day tourists who didn't realize that, yes, a wool sweater was de rigueur for the evening as it would be about 40 degrees.
So, go eat your hot dogs (or Smart Dogs, in our case), drink a beer, and don't start any fires.
Three posts in one day. Have I lost my mind?