Happy 4th!

At the risk of sounding like a total party-pooper, I’m just going to throw it out there that three things freak the hell out of me: crowds, drunks and explosives. Our Independence Day celebration, as it has evolved (at least where I live) now encompasses all three.

Crowds – In my town, we have something awful called Red, White and Boom. In theory, it is a fireworks celebration among the beautiful downtown skyline, the Olentangy River providing a reflective backdrop for the scene. It’s set to music, jaunty Sousa stuff and pseudo patriotic pop music like the Cyrus classic Party in the USA. It’s a place to bring the whole family. Sounds pretty good so far, huh? In reality, it is a white trash bonanza, where clueless parents force their exhausted two year-olds to SAVE THEIR SPOT from 10 in the morning until the show starts around 10 pm. The parents bring neither sunscreen nor water for their rapidly wilting children, but manage to bring the cooler full of soda and secret beer for themselves. (They force their four year old to pull the cooler the entire half mile trek from their car to the spot on the riverfront.) They have made no provisions for rain, boredom, excessive sun or heat, hunger or mosquitoes. Multiply this family by 100,000. That is the clusterfuck that is Red, White and Boom. Now, in addition to the people, there is also a small matter of a downtown that no one normally ever visits, therefore, they have no clue how to navigate. As a result, ingress or egress from up to a mile away from downtown is a nightmare. And that is a total problem because I live less than a mile from downtown, and these stupid Red White and Boom freakshows are IN MY WAY. Columbus, Ohio is almost magical in its number of really obese people, and this event is second only to the wondrous Ohio State Fair in terms of body mass per square foot (but I love the fair. I totally, totally love the fair). After the fireworks have ended, the hoards and masses blink and stare, drunk and crabby, and start fights on the way back to their automobiles, screaming at their poor children who are so hungry at this point, they have eaten their American flags.

Drunks – No matter whether you celebrate our nation’s independence at a flashy fireworks show or a family gathering, one of the requirements to properly acknowledging our freedom seems to be the consumption of staggering amounts of alcohol. This, combined with a day generally spent out in the sun without enough water, leads to gross consequences, including very bossy sounding choruses of, “USA! USA! USA! USA!” and people setting of firecrackers in the middle of the street at midnight, which is SERIOUSLY ANNOYING, GUYS! I feel kind of sad when I think of the patriots who laid down their lives for our freedom – that we pay for the blood that they spilled for us by sucking down Sam Adams like it was the eve of prohibition and then getting in our cars and driving all crazy all over the freeway.

Explosives – If there is one thing that you learn in law school, (I’m totally serious about this), it’s that fireworks are super dangerous. They are up there with, like, swimming pools made out of razor blades and keeping honey badgers as pets. There are laws that use fireworks as their gold standard of things that EVERYONE knows are UNSAFE, because their FUNCTION is to EXPLODE. A quick trip to Google just told me that, in 2010, there were 8600 people treated by emergency rooms for fireworks injuries. 8600 people who said, “What could be the harm in lighting this explosive device on fire? After all, I have absolutely NO TRAINING in how to safely operate this thing, what could be the harm?” I think that fireworks are beautiful. I really do. But I don’t want to be anywhere near them, and I feel really sorry for all my little dog friends who are seriously traumatized by this stuff.

You will note that I haven’t mentioned parades. I actually am okay with parades, but don’t quite understand this recent trend of throwing water at people or hurling candy at them like you are Nolan Ryan and they are…uh…some poor person who is sitting on a curb without a catchers mitt. Also: what the hell ever happened to actual floats? You people on a flatbed with a posterboard are NOT CUTTING THE MUSTARD. At the end of the day, I guess this is the bottom line: I think there are better ways we can show our love of country than yelling at our hungry kids, drinking ourselves silly, and blowing our thumbs off. God bless America.