PARTY PEOPLE WHO BRING THE EXTRA EXCITEMENT

Party people come to life at the right time. They also make things come to life.

Pictures of food and dessert are one thing, but seeing it put together in real time is a whole ‘nother thing.

Wherever the flag idea came from, it looked good yesterday.

A lot of things looked good yesterday.

In the past, before wife and kids, a July 4th included bottle rocket wars, firecracker surprises, and booze. What could ever go wrong there?

Add Roman Candle firefights for the whole picture. No one got hurt, but not for trying. “Oops, I shot a fireball in your face,” was never heard. We were younger and more responsive. Duck!

I aged out of potential 3rd degree burns and became a fireworks supervisor to prevent the same from happening to others, like my kids and their firebug friends.

They went from parking lot sparklers to mortars from Blackjacks to making their own fireworks.

The tap, tap, tapping in the garage was the young pyros extracting Piccolo Pete power. They wrapped a two liter plastic bottle in duct tape. With a few more additions, they put the bottle in the middle of the empty street.

“You’ve done this before?”

“Yes, but not this big.”

“So it’s not dangerous?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Would your parents let you do this at their house?”

“I wouldn’t say that, either.”

Party People Who Grew Up

When the kids lit their homemade fireworks, they took cover behind a car. I watched from the garage door opening.

The explosion rattled windows and melted asphalt. It sent a visible wave of fire out from the center.

Everyone ran in the house and turned off the lights and waited for the police. But no one showed up at the door to ask questions.

The only questions came from the one neighbor who came out the next day to tell me they were calling the police if that ever happened again.

I was certain it would never happen again, but the threat bugged me.

“This is American Independence Day, Herb. You might as well call the police, the National Guard, and the sherif while you’re at it. I don’t know where you come from, and maybe May Day is your special, but here in America the 4th is loud and out of control.”

Herb has since moved away and his replacement is even less a fireworks fan. He’s a retired fireman, so it makes sense. And his wife and dog are not fans, so that’s been a good excuse to tone things down.

They’ve explained it more than once and it’s a fair complaint.

Party people are one thing, arson is a whole ‘nother thing.

Baby Saves The Day

When kids grow up and have kids, things change to a calmer day.

Bottle rockets? Not around baby.

Firecrackers? Not around baby.

Piccolo Pete bombs? Nope.

Just fly that flag, set the table, unfurl the umbrella and settle in.

I got there early to help and got sent for ice, beer, and cups. Plaid Pantry had no ice. The Shell station had no ice. By then I was close enough to home that I got ice, beer, and cups there. I returned to find more people had arrived, people with ice and beer.

Instead of going jackass trying to burn the place down, the millennial party people played corn hole, beer pong, and a game of throwing weighted rope at stantions with crossbars.

They grilled beef, chicken, and salmon. It felt like the happiest place in the world while I held baby girl and watched the events.

Wife and I were the oldest people there and like some geezers do, we left early.

I passed baby to wife, who passed her to one of a long-term guy’s girlfriend. It might have been a mistake since this baby is so skilled at making people forget any notion they ever had about having kids.

After being around her things change from, “I’m not having kids. I’m not a kid person,” to, “If all kids were like this I might change my mind.”

July 4th has changed lots of minds. Care for a cupcake?