The End of A July 4th Tradition

As everyone knows tomorrow is the 4th of July.  Every year with the exception of when I was nine years old my family has always gone into Boston to celebrate.  Now, I'm not what you would call the most patriotic of citizens but over the years the tradition grew to mean as much to me as Christmas means for others.  It wasn't just my family but we would recruit friends and neighbors and it was like having a giant lawn party only our backyard was the Cambridge side of the Charles and our music, the Boston Pop's Orchestra.  It's funny, I can organize my memories around the fireworks saying things like, “oh that was the year the Irish people came and there was a monsoon” or “that was the year we brought the caravan of 30 people and there was no wind so we watched a giant cloud of smoke change colors.”

Somewhere along the way, it seems that those who said that they would always go have decided against it.  It's not all that surprising.  It's a long day to sit out in the blazing sun or the pouring rain just to watch a half hour of explosives illuminate the night in celebration our nation's sovereignty.  People's lives change.  Babies are born, people become ill, and sitting with thousands of others in the city becomes far, far less alluring to even those who always swore they would never miss it.  However, I must say that this particular year seems more disappointing than most as even my parents are not sure they are going to actually make it.  My sister and Ben decided against it which was initially shocking as the only year my sister hasn't joined us was in 2002 after September 11th.

My parents though; my dad possibly not going is the most shocking of all.  I've never been to a fourth of July celebration without my father.  There have been one or two years that my mother was unable to go but my dad was always there.  Of course, I can't fault them.  The weather this year is supposed to be miserable and it's on a Monday night with work the next morning.  Honestly, bringing it to national television was the worst thing that ever happened to it.  I'm not one to ever claim that anything was better before it became huge but I can't deny that our tradition was far more convenient before everyone in the nation needed to see it.  As a result of the nationwide broadcast, the fireworks that used to go off at 9:30 now don't go off until 10:30.  Not a big deal if it didn't take over an hour to get out of Boston and get home.

We've been lucky the past couple of years as it occurred on the weekend.  Even last year when it was on a Sunday, most companies put the holiday on Monday.  This year though, getting home after midnight is just too difficult for those who are unable to take the Tuesday off work.  With my father working at a temp job now, he can't take any days off anymore.  I don't blame him for not wanting to sit in gross weather until 10:30, get home after midnight, and be up to work the next day; especially when our family friends or my sister aren't going to be there.

So needless to say, I can't help but be disappointed.  Every year since I was in high school I've made a big deal about not working on the fourth of July because it was a big holiday for my family.  Huh, after writing that sentence I realize just how little I've budged with a career but that's a different whine for a different day.  But yes, every year I've made it a big deal; even worked Christmas last year and Thanksgiving this year so I wouldn't have to work it.   Deep down I always knew it meant far more to me than it ever did to anyone else, but I guess I never realized just how much more.  Thankfully, my best friend who has gone since sophomore year of high school with me (except for that year she was in Hawaii) and Dave will be there.   If there is a terrorist attack, at least it will be just us.