Recalling the 4th

Despite the prolonged hangover and illness from Friday night, yesterday ended pretty well.

We were stirred from our attempts to fall asleep (we are now early to bed people) by the sounds of fireworks. I suggested that it could have also been our neighbors making the loudest microwave popcorn I have ever heard. It wasn't.

We went out in the front yard in our scraggly pajamas to watch the city's fireworks display which was originating just two blocks north of our apartment. We could have sat on our couch watching through the front window with our cat.

!!!SENTIMENTAL FLASHBACK ALERT!!!

Whenever I see fireworks, I think back to when I was a kid and how every 4th we would go to the nearby lake to catch the display. We'd sit in lawnchairs and get eaten alive by mosqitoes while listening to the local easy listening station's musical contribution. Fireworks are truly the only time I can stand such sappy fare. In fact, I think it is required. That, or some Beach Boys.

So we watched the fireworks as they were framed by the palm trees across the street. And while I pined for my patriotic music, we, instead, enjoyed the chorus of car alarms that were triggered by the loud booms of the fireworks. With every particularly loud boom, we eagerly watched a pick-up parked across the street, as it's lights flickered, threatening to sound its alarm. My boyfriend was disappointed when the finale failed to trigger the truck's wails. I has no regrets and wish we could do it all again tonight.

Happy Belated 4th.

Thanks to all the troops, past and present. Don't forget the future ones in boot camp either.

Happy Birthday Bro!