I know. I know. Warms the cockles of one's heart.
The FOURTH OF JULY.
I still grow misty at the memory of the 4th of July parades in Pittsfield, Massachusetts circa 1958. To my nine year old eyes they were the best thing after Christmas morning. The parades always ended with the firemen's muster.
One year, grown up now, and married, I went to the 4th of July parade in Milwaukee, which ended with the Coors Clydesdale team. They were gorgeous. Then we rode the train back to life in Chicago...which is an American tradition in itself...life in Chicago, I mean.
One year, two babies in tow, I went to the 4th of July parade in Dundalk, MD...That day was a nightmare of two unhappy babies, so never mind about the parade in Dundalk--
History deserves to be preserved by these celebrations. I do not disagree.
Anyway, 4th of July is all about parades.
And fireworks.
And barbecue and corn-on-the-cob and strawberry shortcake.
Unless you live in Paris, where 4th of July is totally ignored, and all good Americans living there bow their heads in quiet relief, only to be brought up short by the mania of Bastille Day.
There was a time when two photographers, Mole and Thomas, made patriotic photos using thousands of men to create their 'living' tableaux. They were originally made to honor the USA's involvement in WWl. The one here used thirty thousand men. From a seventy foot tower erected at Camp Custer in Battle Creek, Michigan, Arthur Mole stood, surveying the scene while his business partner, John D. Thomas, slowly moved the men into formation.
This picture is one of the largest the partners produced, measuring 748 by 580 feet. Boggles the mind.
I am grateful for my country today. No complaints today. The sun is out. I happen to be in the Midwest where 4th of July will feel very different from Southern California--
And it will feel the very same as well.
The plans include barbecue, and fireworks tonight. How could they not.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, USA.