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July 4, 2007
Independence Day, 2007
Fireworks. Cotton Candy. Cat Fight.
I love the fireworks. I go to the fireworks, at the fairgrounds, every year. It's insane, it takes 40 minutes to get in and parked, 10 minutes to walk across the grounds to spend 15 minutes standing in line for a $2.00 bag of pink and blue fluffy cotton candy. 10 minutes to walk back to my car, 15 minutes waiting for the show to start, and 50 minutes watching traffic go by before I get a turn to leave. For 15 minutes of fireworks and 114 calories worth of sugar.
I. Like. To. Be. THERE.
It's about the experience, it's about the cotton candy, laying back on the hood of my car watching sparkly ashes glowing as they float through the smoke filled sky. The car next to me left five minutes before the end of a 15 minute exhibition to beat traffic, all I could think was "Where you gotta be so fast?"
Then there's the best part of the show, watching 4 cars trying to cram themselves into a three inch gap between two other cars.
Car # 1: "If I just keep moving, and don't stop at all, everyone else will let me have it."
Car # 2: "I was in this line before they were, I'm not giving up my position."
Car # 3: "Next year I'm leaving 7 minutes before the end of the show."
Car # 4: "Look at all these jerks, I wonder if they know how stupid they look."
And the cat fight, after being shut out by four or five vehicles, the passenger of one truck got out, walked between two vehicles, asked the other driver if she would let them go, of course the driver refused. The passenger stood knee-to-bumper with the car, as though she could force the driver to wait until her friend got enough of her vehicle into the stream of traffic. The driver was not having it and inched forward anyway. Miss Knee-to-bumper summoned a Sheriff's Reserve officer over to complain about the car "hitting" her. Both of them wound up sitting while traffic inched forward enough for 7 other cars to cram into the single lane ahead of them. The guy in the big green truck looked at me, laughing and shaking his head at their impatience, then quickly gunned his truck to shut out the next person. I wanted to holler at him out my window "Where you gotta be so fast?"
The fireworks are over, the cotton candy is gone, I imagine the cat fight girls are mad about something else, and it was worth every minute.
Posted by Anna at July 4, 2007 11:00 PM