Celebrating the birth of our nation, of course.

Early on at a cookout:

Tattooed lady: This is my Chinese baby. The guy was Mongolian. He was big. Mongolians are big.

She says this as she is pointing to her teenager. Mind you, she didn’t know me but she felt comfortable telling me that a well hung Asian had fathered her child.

Tattooed boyfriend: So which one of you is the mom?

Jen: We’re both the mom.

Tattooed boyfriend: Ohhh! Well, you know I don’t have a problem with that.

Later in the day, we came back home, and my son wanted to see the fireworks. I told him we could go to the top of Peter’s Hill.  Lots of folks in the neighborhood go there, and it has a casual feel compared to the craziness of the Esplanade.

About 9:30 we get to the top of the hill, and we are met by the state police evacuating the place. There was an electrical storm coming. Disappointed we trekked down the hill and go home. We turned on the television thinking we could at least watch it on the news. The weather guy came on and said that the storm had moved north.

Me: Do you want to go back to Peter’s Hill?

Of course he did. So we trekked back to the top of the hill. We find a spot at about 10:15. We are joined by a group of young and very drunk hipsters. They were chatting it up about the birth of our nation with my kid.

And then it starts to rain. Reasonable people left. We aren’t the only ones who stayed but I think we might have been the only sober folks.

About 10:30 the fireworks start which is just amazing since they had evacuated and then repopulated the Esplanade. The fireworks start blasting away to the left of us, and we can see lightening strikes to the right of us. The hipster kids start discussing the best body position to be in if you are going to get hit by lightening. I listened intently but decided I’m not leaving this hill.

Someone put on the radio so we could hear the concert. My son curled up in lap like he used to do when he was a baby. We could see not only the fireworks from Boston but the surrounding towns as well.

And I thought, You know what? This is perfect. Happy Birthday America.

Patriotic V

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