Fiasco of July
Stand fast therefore in the liberty
wherewith Christ hath made us free,
and be not entangled again with the
yoke of bondage.
-- Galatians 5:1
We went
over to a nearby country club to see the spectacular Fourth of July fireworks
show. We sat there in the car in the dark, Maddy in her Winnie the Pooh
jammies, and me barefoot-casual. What a show!
WHOA!
WOO!
WOW!
In Maddy's
joyous shrieks and gasps I heard the music of America. All the color and
sparkle of our amazing country were reflected in her dazzled, uplifted eyes.
This is
freedom. This is how it feels. This is what God wants for us -- the peaceful,
prosperous lifestyle He ordained.
Everybody
honked their horns when it was over. Hey, Maddy, how was that for a birthday
celebration for 'Merica? She replied: "Humungously great!"
That's what
our country is, and that's how we want the Fourth of July to be. We want a worthy
observation to remember all the wonderful things our predecessors fought to
create and sustain . . . their blood, sweat and tears . . . their battlefield
valor.
This year,
I want an especially great one, because I'm bustin'-buttons proud of my nephew
Mark, a computer engineer who begins officer training in the U.S. Air Force
this week in Montgomery, Ala.
Whenever
I watch fireworks, I think of and pray for our military all around the world,
for my dad and other relatives who fought for our country, and all the patriots
going all the way back to our founding. They did what they did so that a little
girl in her jammies and her sleepy, barefoot mom could enjoy the splendors of
liberty on a dark and starry night.
'Course,
there was one celebration I heard about that didn't quite fit the profile of an
all-American great time. Guess it's the exception that proves the rule:
It was at
a country club, and in those days, the price was staggering: $13.98 per person.
But you got a lot for that: fun and games in the pool, an all-you-can-eat
buffet, and then that club's signature fireworks show.
The first
few pool games went fine, and then . . . disaster. They had ordered hundreds of
live goldfish, and dumped them into the pool so that the kids could swim
around, try to catch them, and have a whee.
Trouble
was, they didn't realize what chlorine would do to those poor little goldfish.
They died
instantly, and all the giggling little kids found themselves in a watery grave
with hundreds of disgusting, dead fish!
They
screamed, and scrambled out of there as if escaping the "Baby Ruth" in that
crazy "Caddy Shack" movie.
Then it
was dinnertime. The crowd lined up for the all-you-can-eat buffet.
Trouble
was, there were more diners than expected. The lavishly-prepared food disappeared.
A lot of people had all they could eat, all right - of cocktail olives,
parsley, roofing tile and whatever else the harried chef could round up.
Oh, well.
Who cares about fancy food on the Fourth of July, anyway? Fireworks are the
main event! The party-goers expectantly awaited the show. Daylight turned to
dusk, dusk to dark, dark to pitch dark . . . but still no show.
Finally,
'waaaaay off in the distance, if you had binoculars and squinted really hard,
you could see the orange poofs of a few pop-bottle rockets going off. I mean,
like 27. And a few Roman candles. And that was it.
It seems
the stand out in the country where this club had always bought the fireworks
for their signature show hadn't opened up that year. The club employee in charge
thought it would be easy to find really great fireworks at half price at a
roadside stand on the afternoon of the Fourth.
But
noooooo. They had hardly anything left. So that was it.
The good
news is, the kids had a great time just being together, anyway, and the cash
bar stayed open the whole time, so lots of the grown-ups had a bang-up Fourth
after all.
Is this a great country, or what? †
