July 05, 2004


How do you know when the Fourth of July block party you're having is off to a rousing start?
When the cook tries to put someone's head on the grill with his tongs.
That's the kind of evening we had yesterday.
For the second year in a row, the neighbors in our vicinity pooled our beer and beef resources - as well as more explosives than a vengeful Palestinian could ever hope to get his hands on - to have one helluva good time.
Few things signal an important American holiday like burning animal flesh. And I thank God for that fact every year.
Tom had the non-patriotic, non-Harley Davidson shirt of the day.
He speaketh the truth.
Reminds me of the axiom I once saw on the bartenders and waitresses at Darwin's Theory in Anchorage: "A smart monkey never monkeys around with another monkey's monkey."
When all was said and done and offspring and pets were included, I counted almost 50 bodies.
The possibilities that lay before him were innumerable.
Houck's Corrolary: Never blow up fireworks that are bigger than you are.
At a certain point, when you have so many kids around, a game of Kill The Carrier will always ensue.
This is like an Escher drawing: An idiot taking a picture of an idiot taking a picture...
As the sailors say: Red skies at night, prepubescent delight.
It's important when you're about to blow up numerous gunpowder devices in the vicinity of small children that you have a proper staging area.
For Mike's explosives, this was a match made in heaven.
When they write the warnings on fireworks displays, this is pretty much the guy they have in mind.
Sing it with me now: Skyyyyy rockets in flight...
...middle of the evening deliiiiight....
One thing we proved conclusively: toxic waste emits a really cool color when it burns.
One child must be burned by a supposedly harmless sparkler before the evening is out. It's the law. Shay was our designated casualty of the evening.
Wait, that's not true. I set Drew's hairy ass on fire with a Roman candle. But there are no photos of that little event.
How loud was was the fireworks barrage? Loud enough to make Fluffy the dog want to sit on a cooler.
This was the year I let Brian light fireworks for the first time.
His mother and grandmother and grandfather and aunt were quite pleased.
How close should you get when you're photographic fireworks?
The burns on my arm would indicate that this close is too close.
Next year's goal: Four trashcans full of debris.
I call this suburban holiday ballet the Dance Of The Men With Their Leaf Blowers.
Posted by Jeff at July 5, 2004 01:45 PM

WOW! Looks like you all had tons of fun...cant have a block party in my hood...at least not without worrying about drive-bys!

Posted by: Cherry at July 5, 2004 06:11 PM

We had an awesome party! Food, beer and more than enough mortars. Our neighborhood rocks!

Posted by: Mike at July 5, 2004 07:57 PM

We have the best neighborhood! The fireworks were awesome and the food great. I can not wait until New Year's again. Six and a half hours of fun!

Posted by: Sherrye at July 5, 2004 09:34 PM

What I did on my 4th of July:

1. Went to Wal-Mart, because they were having a sale on TVs and one of my small ones broke.

2. Went to Publix, because that's what I do on Sundays.

3. Played with computer, TV, and video games.

4. Watched Soul Music.

5. Watched Adult Swim.

6. Went to bed.

I'm so boring.

Oh, and I'm stealing Houck's Corollary, btw. Just so you know. *g*

Posted by: J at July 6, 2004 08:37 AM

Looks like another wonderful time. Sorry I missed the festivities...I rode all weekend up in the rocky mountains around Steamboat Springs..Take care all...Mike

Posted by: Mike McGee at July 6, 2004 11:30 AM