Today is my birthday - the Fourth of July. And while I have some great memories of this day, there's a few that I can only appreciate years later.
When I was a kid, my father told me the fireworks were for me. I spent a few too many years thinking he paid off some guy to shoot them in the air to celebrate the birth of an angel. (If you've ever met my dad, he looks like someone who "knows a guy" so it was entirely possible.) Thankfully I kept that to myself - it would have been social suicide. Like those kids who believed in Santa until they were 16.
My mother put sparklers on my cake even thought I was scared of them. I have such vivid memories of her telling me they weren't dangerous and swishing her hand right through the sparkly fire. Today on the news I heard they're 2000˚ (which sounds impossible - the sun is 10,000˚) so that was probably a bad idea. Mom, don't be mad that I told that story. I'm way too old for DYFUS to track you down. Plus I looked through every childhood album and there is no photographic evidence. Smart move.
But better than those two, was the absolute childhood trama that was the Spring of 1986 when I was dressed up like a makeshift Statue of Liberty in front of my entire school.
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| First time I've left my face in a photo - the facial expression is too priceless to ruin. |
I'm all about developing our youth with creative subliminal learning, but it would have been fine to have me recite parts of the Declaration of Independence. I can only assume my hair was cut that way to really get me into the role.
That is a towel from our guest bathroom and thankfully I have clothes on underneath it. The 80s were a very loose time in American history so it could have been worse.
Interestingly enough, that torch is buried in the lawn of our grammar school in the form of a time capsule. At least once a year, I tell my childhood pals that I plan to serve as the Master of Ceremonies when they dig it up. And you bet your ass I'll be wearing a one shoulder towel dress.
