Firing up for the fourth

Image by nuttakit, freedigitalimages.net

Image by nuttakit, freedigitalimages.net

The Fourth of July is the one day of the year when laziness finally gets the respect it deserves, which is why the fourth is number one in my book.

Despite all of the organized activity options in town-which consists of multiple parades; a musical smorgasbord of American standards, symphonies, jazz, flamenco, show tunes, country, Klezmer and Zydeco; plus hayrides, horseshoes, and pancake breakfasts-no one thinks you’re nuts if you decline all that and elect instead to simply recline, relax, sip a beer and watch the sun go down till the fireworks go up.

Now that’s my kind of holiday.

Unless you sell beer for a living, you really can’t go to work that day, because it would be un-American.

There’s so much tradition associated with the fourth. I’m sure if they were still alive, the founding fathers-George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, John McCain, Jack Daniels and Orville Redenbacher-would celebrate just like we do, with beer and matches.

What other time of the year do we not only allow-but also encourage-children to play with fire? I’m sure the genius that invented sparklers did it so the kids would have something to do while the adults were getting drunk and overeating.

Plus, I get to play with matches too. What better time to get in touch with your inner pyromaniac than the Fourth of July. I’m always entranced by the fireworks: both the big booming ones shooting from the sky, and the cute, little, funny-named ones on the ground, like June Bugs, Whistling Petes, Glittering Crystal Fountains, and Flashing Peach Flowers in Spring (who my husband says he saw at the Spearmint Rhino).

Then there’s the exceedingly amusing, and mostly masculine mania to stare and poke at whatever’s cooking on the barbecue. I love to eavesdrop on the men folk as they ponder the eternal questions of life, such as, “How many minutes do tyrannosaurus rex steaks have to cook on each side? Hmm. What if I made the pterodactyl sausage instead? Let me look that up on my iPhone. Make sure you wear your headset. It’s okay, we’re outside, it’s still legal. That’s right. How do you turn this thing on? I’m not sure. Let me check my GPS.”

Plus, is there any other day of the year where overeating is considered an act of patriotism?

OK, maybe there is, but Thanksgiving is always so much work for my mom. And it’s not in the summer where you can eat outside and the cooking is relatively simple. Just throw a few dogs or burgers or dinosaurs on the grill and call it a holiday.

Another fun thing about the fourth is you get to dress up in ridiculous outfits and everyone’s too drunk to take pictures. I really wish I had asked Jimbo where he got that t-shirt that says, “Uncle Sam Wants You … To Have Another Beer.” That would have been perfect.

I guess I’ll have to wear the same old “Light my Firecracker” tee again this year. I’ll be the one exercising my independence by lounging on a beach chair if you want to come say hi. Happy Fourth of July!

Share your holiday traditions with Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on July 1, 2011.

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