Happy Independance

My magical blogger analysis tools tell me that not all of our audience comes from the USA (Which kinda blows my mind. People living in foreign lands, let us know who you are!) But if you do call 'Merica your home, Happy July 4th to you. I hope you are doing something more fun than reading blogs today. I'll be working (boo!) but hope to eat some BBQ and blow some things up later.

July 4th is one of those low expectation holidays that I love more and more as an adult. There's not a lot of prep work for most of us. If you want to have a BBQ, that's pretty simple. Just pick up some stuff at the grocery store and you're good to go. Not a lot of pre-planning required. If you want to set off some fireworks (maybe you don't maybe you hate them (I do.)) you pick some up at the store, put some lawn chairs on the lawn and go to town. If you want to go to a parade, go for it. If you want to play football in the park (That was for you, Chris Liv,) have at it. It's a day to relax, have fun and be happy it's summer. And to be glad that you live in a great country. Sure, we're not a perfect nation (We continue to allow Michael Bay to have a career.) but at least we can say we are a nation of open political dialogue, non-didactic discussions about our beliefs and acceptance of one another's viewpoints. What's that, Great Bird? We don't do that, either? Well, at least we have apple pie.

So have fun today. Be safe. Know that we here at PTA will proudly stand up, next to you and defend her still today. And eat pie. We will stand up next to you and eat pie.  Happy Independance Day!!

Fourths

There is something kind of fantastic about a big rainy day on the 5th of July, especially if you live in Utah which has been slowly burning down over the last few weeks. If you did accidentally set any wildfires last night with your illegal fireworks, you should be good because the rain has washed it all away.

I love holidays like the 4th where there is so little expected of me. No gift buying, or prepping or  decorating baking of special treats. No programs to prepare for or costumes to make. Like Lindsay said, it is kind of the perfect summer holiday. If all that is required of me is to grill a little food and show up at a parade or firework show, sign me up.

My childhood Fourths were memorable. My Aunt had a store right on University Avenue in Provo where the July 4th Parade is done every year. Getting a prime spot for the parade is a Provo tradition and my cousins would sleep in the store (luckily it was a furniture store so I imagine there were beds) so they could claim a prime spot along the store front. We would run extension cords through the store and cook waffles to eat while we watched the parade. We were young and snarky and it became a competition amongst my cousins to see who could say the funniest thing mocking those who were in the parade. I am sure we would have been ruthless to Chris's axe twirling mountain men. (Sorry Chris - as an adult I would whoop and holler at your boys.) At night we would sit on our front lawn and watch the firework show from the Stadium of Fire which you could see perfectly from our front yard. Our neighbor was an elderly lady and every year she would come out on the lawn and stand and wait for the fireworks to start. She would eventually get impatient and head back inside. As soon as her front door closed, the sky would explode with blue and red star bursts. A few minutes later she would come back out and the fireworks would abruptly stop. She'd stand and wait for a few minutes, staring at the blank sky. Then boredom would set in and she'd head back in. On cue, the fireworks would resume. It would happen like clock work, year after year, and we loved it.

When I was a teenager, my best friend Charlotte's dad was the scenic art director for The Stadium of Fire (or Fiyah! as the theme song would lead you to believe.) and I was lucky enough to be invited along for several years in a row. We would begrudgingly sit through the witty banter by the KSL newscaster who had been roped in to Emcee that year and then roll our eyes at the old people music of The Beach Boys or Gladys Knight and the Pips, occasionally dancing a bit on the grass of the stadium floor. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the sun would set and we could finally see the fireworks spectacular. And if you have never been, it truly is spectacular, and accompanied by an insane, overly dramatic theme song that urges you to "turn and watch the fire burn...higher and hiyeahaha!!!" It rules. With Charlotte's family, there was a certain reverence for the Fourth. Charlotte's mom was incredibly patriotic (we called her The Great Bird) and would inevitably tear up during the fireworks show. 

For narrative purposes, I thought this essay would be better with four memories of the Fourth (See what I did there?) But I have zero recollection of celebrating Independence day in college. I went and flipped through a few old photo's and could only find me and a friend (Chanel) making a really ugly cake and then some photos of some other friends playing with sparklers. And that's all I got. College friends -weigh in. Why are these years so blank? I did realize one thing. Pre-digital camera times sucked! If you took a picture and it was lame, you still had to pay to print in and then you were stuck with it. 

And now, the Fourth is all about my kids, as most things in my life are. My Father in Law does a big firework blow out in his front yard. My middle son, who is terrified of loud noises and unexpected things runs around the yard and giggles with joy and glee and every whistle and explosion. Its incongruous. This year was no exception. The big finale was a firework called Ghost Patrol that my oldest, Jonah picked out. As we were leaving and everyone was saying thanks to Grandpa who had bought and supplied all of the fireworks, Jonah was quick to remind everyone that they should be thanking HIM because he picked out the best firework. We've raised him well. 

I hope your Independence day was full of joy and fun and low expectations and being ignored by parade watchers. And if you accidentally set hundreds of acres of forest on fire, you may be off the hook today!

i love a parade

I just got back from marching in Provo's Freedom Festival 4th of July parade. I'm sure it's the largest 4ofJ parade in the whole country, and if I were less lazy I would look it up to confirm that. It's huge, though. 300,000 people, usually. I was in it this year. I haven't been in the parade since I was ten. Back then I was a "freedom ringer," which is a cub scout who wears his uniform and a giant bell like a sandwich board and bangs pots and pans up and down the parade route. Doesn't that sound so 1950's Americana? 'Twas.

Today I walked in the parade because a show I'm directing, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, is performing at Sundance all this summer. And, say, if you wanted to come, you might find tickets here. PTA's own Patrick was cast in the show for five minutes but then he dropped out, even though he knew I needed someone with a removable tooth! Oh, well, I'm over it! Anyway, I walked in the parade with the actors to promote the show.

It's a very different thing to be in the parade than to watch it. But I thought, overall, it was really fun! I'm not shy in front of groups, thankfully, so it was easy for me to smile and wave and yell things out. The actors were all in costume, and they were great; they chased each other and danced and kissed and kidnapped women who cheered too loudly. I was really proud of them, especially because the parade was just under fifty miles long and the temperature was around 120 and they had to wear buckskin pants and petticoats. I got to wear a Sundance t-shirt and some really sporty trousers from Primark.

One thing that sort of irritated me was some of the people in the crowd; maybe 50% of the people in the crowd. I'm being polite; it was like 70%. They just sat there. They didn't clap, smile, or wave. And it's fine to respond that way if I'm walking around making everyone do their times tables, but I had actors doing back flips and kissing and ax jumping! Really tricky ax jumping, and smiling while they did it! And people just sit there. No response. What is wrong with these people? Why do they hate freedom? Lisa says that people are hot and the parade is long and they can't cheer and clap for everyone. She has a good point. But I literally think we could have been naked or riding silver ponies on two legs (or both) and they still would have just sat there. What do you people want???? We're not allowed to throw candy so don't ask!!!!

Anyway, there were a lot of people who clapped and waved. I loved those people. We also had a lot of people singing lyrics to the songs from the show, and we had fun with them. And time went by quickly and, like I said, we actually had a great time doing it. But if you are reading this and you were a big jerk at the parade today who wouldn't smile or clap when a bunch of loggers and frontier gals came by, shame on you! We gave you a gift, and you spat on it. Next year we're going to do Hair and we'll see how you all like that!

The Fire and Works of Love

As this is the weekend before the 4th we wanted you to think back on those summers in your life when stuff meant stuff and the world was wide and open.

There was this girl.  She was the prettiest girl in school and I was her second best friend. We hung out a lot and we laughed and ate Jell-O and colored in coloring books...we were 15 and I loved her.  It was the summer before high school and I knew that September would come and we would fraction off into the churning sea of 10th grade.  I think she knew I loved her, even though I never told her...well, I may have told her every day but I was such a kidder that it never took hold, which is how I got the title "Second Best Friend".  So I had this night planed out, it wasn't quite a date but somehow it ended up that it was just me and her (First Best Friend had another engagement) and we were going to see the fire works for our city's birthday.  I remember getting dressed.  How hard it is to pull of effortlessly put together for a summer night with someone you love but they could never know. Shorts and a button down.  The button down says, "This is more important than a T-Shirt."  the shorts say, "My legs get hot.".  We had planed a rendezvous spot in the park, this was in a time before cell phones and somehow you were just suppose to be where you said you would when you said you would.  Right before I was going to leave my house the phone rang.  She couldn't come. Or rather she couldn't come with me.  Her family had decided they wanted to celebrate our city's birthday together.  Everyone has this exact moment in their lives, trying to be cool in the face of utter disappointment.  Well, she must have heard it in my shuddering voice because she made me a promise,

"You have to go tonight, and somewhere in the crowd I will be there too.  Then we can watch the fireworks together but a part.  And every time you see a blue firework, that will be me thinking of you. And every time you see a red firework that will be you thinking of me."

It was well played.  Even at 15 I was a die hard romantic and was quivering at the small branch of hope that she was offering.  Of course I would go, by myself, and find a seat in the grass and look up to the sky and wait for her thoughts and think of her waiting for mine.

The first firework was giant.  It filled the navy sky over both our heads. As it hung there in the air, a smile of deep and powerful adolescent love smeared across my face.

It was red.

And it was blue. 

Split down the middle.