Independence Day is, and always has been, my favorite holiday. Don't get me wrong; I love Christmas and Easter and all they represent in my faith. And I thoroughly enjoy Thanksgiving, with family and friends and thanking God over heaping piles of cornbread dressing and pecan pie drenched in vanilla ice cream. What's not to love?
But as a kid coming from a family that married and divorced like it was a competitive sport, a lot of pressure was associated with the "big holidays." No one would be in the same room together, so I'd have four or five separate Thanksgivings, then four or five separate Christmases, being ever reminded of exactly how long I remained at each locale.
"Yeah, she stayed here four and a half hours, barely got the dishes put up 'fore she left. I hear she and her mama stayed nearly six hours over at such-and-such's place, and she spent the night at you-know-who's, so that's at least a full eight hours. How'dya like them apples?"
They tasted mighty tart, if you asked me, but the Fourth of July was different. It represented freedom on many levels -- for our country and for me. There were no gifts to buy, no being dragged from here to yonder trying to satisfy expectations. It was singing Lee Greenwood's God Bless the U.S.A., eating hot dogs 'til the mustard stained my lips, swimming in the creek 'til my toes turned to prunes, and setting things on fire to light up the sky. As a kid, the "Forfah-Joo-YĪ" -- as I pronounced it -- was nothing short of perfection.
My enthusiasm hasn't waned with age. As I sit beneath the stars and watch the fireworks, or stand in reverence for those who've served in our armed forces, I feel the same awe I felt as a child. But with age, my understanding of freedom grows.
It's defined as "the power or right to act, speak or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint"; "the absence of subjection to foreign domination or despotic government"; and "the state of not being imprisoned or enslaved."
Well, I can't shout "Fire!" in a crowded room that's not ablaze without getting into legal trouble. I can't ignore the IRS without a love letter from Uncle Sam. I've never been incarcerated, but I've learned that not every prison has bars -- just ask the illiterate, the destitute, the alcoholic, or the resident of a nursing home about "independent" living.
But by God's grace, I was born in a place where my newspaper isn't redacted by a tyrant, where I'm not forced to work in my parents' profession, where I am allowed more than one child, and where I'm not stoned to death if I don't submit to an arranged marriage. I have merely an academic perspective of such dictates, all because a few renegades left England to govern themselves, and generations thereafter said damn straight.
When in the course of human events THAT kind of holiday comes around, I'll take four or five of 'em.
NAN Our Town on 07/04/2019