A typical 4th for me in Indiana would mean all day on Boggs Lake in Loogootee the day before. The last time I did this was a couple of years ago. My pal, Gary, and another hometown friend of his, Strange, decided we would take Gary's new boat out for a test ride. Just enough time for some sun and a little tubing. Gary was the first to tube, with Strange helming the boat. I'll start by saying that Gary got the easiest tubing ride out of the entire day. I was next. Things started off fairly easy, and I was just bouncing around back there on my stomach. I already knew I was going to be sore, but oh well...figured it would be worth it. About the time I think that my day is going to be all fine, hunky-dory and the like, Gary (who's driving), turns around and gives me this shit-eating grin (that's Indiana-speak for "oh fuck, I'm gonna get it now"), cranks the boat as hard as he can to the left and gives it the gas. I did a pretty good job of hanging on the first time, much to his chagrin, I'm sure, but come the second round I wasn't so lucky. I hit a really high wake about halfway through the turn, went flying about 5 feet into the air, and hit the water hard. Finally, when I got settled floating in the water, I realized my bikini bottoms were around my ankles. THANK GOD THAT'S ALL THE FARTHER THEY WENT. Good times, regardless of the fact that I was outrageously sore the next day, and had bruises, scrapes, and tubing-burn galore. I took a beating. Oh well, I can take a licking and keep on ticking.
The night before usually consists of some drinks at the local dive, Aggie's Funhouse. This non-descript local hang is about as normal as small town bars go, except they make this rather tasty drink called a Rattlesnake. I'm not quite sure what is in it, but I know it tastes alot like a frozen margarita and they serve it by the pitcher. "Rattlesnake" is probably the appropriate name for sure, cause this sucker will bite you in the ass without you even realizing it.
Finally, the day of the 4th has arrived. As tradition goes, if you're anywhere in Greene County on the 4th, you have to go watch the Linton Freedom Festival Parade. It is Indiana's largest 4th parade, and it's a big to-do around my hometown. Usually I head over to one of my brother's friend's houses with brother and sis-in-law. His friend lives right on the parade route, so all is well, as long as you have a lawn chair and a cooler with some drinks. Everything is fine and dandy until the sun and humidity start taking their toll. Around this period in time, I start sweating Rattlesnake. I imagine I smell something like a Mexican bar at this point. Just squirt a twist of lime on me, and lick one of my legs (salt is already included). Anyway, nothing a little hair of the dog won't cure...throw me a Miller Lite and I'll be fine for the rest of the day. Bring on the fucked-up tan lines, since we will be in these chairs for about 3 hours. (Why do I like being home for this, again?)
After the parade it's time for a little family cooking out. Mom and Dad fire up the grill for some hamburgers and hotdogs. The hamburgers are homegrown too, by the way. That's right, us farm-raised folks have our own cattle butchered. Something about this downtime in the afternoon and early evening is very refreshing for me though. My parents home is an old farmhouse. It's far enough off the highway that you don't usually hear any cars, just the twittering of the crickets and locusts, birds in the morning, and an occasional train whistle. Even though it's essential to be doused in mosquito repellent to enjoy the outdoors during an Indiana summer, I still would rather be outside than inside. Everything is green, everything is quiet....life seems simple.
When dusk comes, it's time for everyone to climb into Dad's and brother's pick-up trucks, to drive over to park on the grade. The "grade" is a strip of raised highway that connects Bloomfield to the rest of civilization across the White River. Farm land surrounds it, and it often gets flooded in the rainy seasons. (Which equals more mosquitos...bring on the OFF!) Everyone chills out in the back of the truck, whether they are on lawn chairs or a blanket, sharing a bag of chips and a few Cokes. The fireworks are simple and short-lived, but there is no shortage of "oooo's" and "ahhh's" from the crowd.
Maybe the reason I miss being home for the 4th is just the fact that it's simple. No big parties to plan, no major crowds to fight through. The comfort of tradition and being around family. I have a tendency to take the simpler things in my life for granted.
For those who are wondering, I did have a good 4th weekend in Seattle. I got to hang out with my brother-from-another-mother, Traub, who was randomly in town. Here is our pre-4th celebration at Naked City (yummy beer, btw) w/ Adam and Cara. We are very silly folks, clearly.
Song of the day: "Simple Life" The Weepies
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