It's the fourth of July. I'm not sure if "fourth" should be capitalized or not. I could look it up but for the moment, I'm okay with mystery.
As a kid, today meant driving into Nashville with my family. We parked at a fire station a few miles from downtown so that we could see the riverfront fireworks without the hassle of people. Generally, we got there an hour or so before the fireworks. Sometimes we played a game where we owned cars as they passed by. Sister, me, Dad, would sit on the car and collect volkswagons, sedans, and semi's. At the end of the day, we gave out awards for best paint job, oddest, best overall, etc. It was nice.
As a me, now, today, visiting Orlando, I drove downtown and watched the extravaganza put on by Disney. It was at Lake Eola. A lot of people were there. A few were dancing to Thriller--one of the radio stations played it for the hour leading up to the fireworks. Speaking of which, this was one of the better shows I've seen. True, they weren't the biggest or the loudest, and they weren't synchronized to music, but what they lacked in blam, they made up for in foreplay. I've never witnessed a firework show with as many false climaxes as this one.
Random favorite bits: Kids blowing bubbles. Tiger faces. Girl with umbrella. Giant muscle men taunting the fireworks show with shouts of, "Bring it on." Also, a small girl who, every once in a while, would grant her approval. "Ooh," she said, "I like that one."
Hope you had a happy fourth, readers.