Independence Day
Independence Day. Alleluia. The day we threw off the yoke of British tyranny, and a bunch of guys prepared to be hung if it didn’t work out. Luckily, for them it did. We celebrate by popping off fireworks, so it will be noisy this evening. I might walk into town to see what the local folks have planned for the main event. I can see it from my yard, but it’s better close up.
This marks our 250th anniversary. That seems like a long time until I step back and realize I’ve been alive for nearly 30% of the time we’ve been a country, and nearly 100% of the time since we became an empire, a world dominating thing. So, I’m old but as empires go, we’re wet behind the ears. Take Egypt and Rome, just to name two. The former logged about 3,000 years of Pharaohs, and the latter comes in at nearly 1,000 years. Put it this way, the history of empires is full of ups and downs, and permanence is not a hallmark.
But back to Independence Day. Growing up I don’t really recall any special activities around our house. Both my parents served in the Navy during World War II (that’s how they met), so maybe they didn’t feel the need to wave flags on July 4. Besides, being a nurse, my mom didn’t like fireworks. So, we never had them. July 4 was just another hot summer day for me as a kid. Mostly what I wanted to do was ride my bike or find a baseball game. And both were easy to do.