July 4th

It’s Saturday and that means that I survived the July 4th celebrations this week. For my friends back in Oz, you would be surprised how even the most delicate wall flower turns into a chest-thumping, we-kicked-the-Brits, “we are the greatest and don’t mess with us” patriot on the Fourth. It’s all slightly surreal - and I loved every minute of it! For one day all Americans seem to put aside political, theological and ideological differences to remind themselves that their way of life isn’t that bad and that it was bought at a price. My Fourth actually started a couple of days before. With the strains of “Born in the USA” blaring from the speakers of the fireworks store, Simon got loaded for bear. It was “kid in a candy store” time for Simon as I went around grabbing anything that looked like it might go bang. Thinking that I had done pretty well in the boomba stakes, I turned around to see a giant firework with arms. Then I realized that it was my sister in-law, Shuree. I got the distinct impression that everyone in the place just looked at me and thought, “Amateur!”
The Fourth consisted of family and friends coming around to Gordon’s, having a BBQ, and six hours of fireworks. But it was more than that. The whole day is about hope. The Fourth is about freedom gained and dreams both for the future and those fulfilled. I think this is the bit that those who haven’t lived in the USA don’t understand. Every year Americans remind themselves and others that on the Fourth of July a country was born - a country with boundless opportunity if only they would grasp at it. Not only that, but because there is so much to go around, they encourage one another to chase after it as well. The Fourth builds the Nation’s self-esteem, so to speak. They see that, though the Fourth gave them freedom to do bad, the majority of them choose to use their freedom to do good. If you don’t understand it, that sort of collective hope can come across as a confident arrogance, but once experienced, it is liberating.