The Daddy Letters - The 4th of July July 4, 2011

Dear TJ, I want to tell you about the 4^th of July. Summer seems to be gearing up to a full swing. The days here in Indiana are hot, long and humid. The humidity in the Midwest is terrible. It makes the days extremely uncomfortable, but I love the summer nights. Coming back from the studio last week, I was driving through the country. It was about 9:30 at night and the sun was just below the tree line. I had the windows rolled down and the evening air was whipping into the car. The lightning bugs were out and it looked like they were poking little holes of light in the fields all around me. The shadows were long and the colors were vivid and stark. I was the only one on the road. It was just me and the lightning bugs. The wind coming in through the windows was loud and violent but the night outside was quiet and peaceful. I had the music turned up and every song that came on was the exact one I wanted to hear. I’ll tell you; I have been scuba diving off the coast of Australia to see the infinite colors of the Great Barrier Reef. I have climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro to see the run rise over Africa. I have gotten lost in the maze of streets in Athens, Greece. But, man… I’d take a cool summer night in the country with the windows rolled down any day. It was one of those times when you just want to drive forever. This really is a beautiful world and I’m glad you’re here to share it with me. I can’t wait for you to find perfection in the small things in life such as this. We spent the 4^th of July last year out in Idaho at the cabin up in the mountains. The cabin lies in a very small town of about 300 people. My brother and sister-in-law suggested that we go into town for the annual local 4^th of July celebration. So we jumped in the car and took the winding road down the mountain into the valley. We found a place to park and headed towards town on foot. The town consists, basically, of a bar, a general store and a gas station. There was a lot of commotion up ahead from the direction of the gas station. As we approached it became apparent what they were doing. About 300 people had made a giant circle in the parking lot of the gas station. It looked like every wedding you’ve been to when people take turns dancing in the circle. Except instead of dancing, people were running into the center of the circle and were letting off fireworks. They were shooting every which way. People were ducking bottle rockets, dodging black cats and jumping over the roman candles. The air was filled with smoke and noise. Did I mention they were doing this in the parking lot of the GAS STATION? About 20 people at a time would run into the center of the circle and let fly with whatever they had brought. Your mother did not like it much but I thought that was about the coolest thing I had seen in a while. Here are some pictures so you can get an idea on how crazy this was: Pretty great, huh? Please note the gentleman in the second picture on the bottom left in the chair that appears to be passed out. And here is a picture of your mother and me. See how much fun she is having?!?! Anyways, we retreated from this scene and started looking for the best place to see the “real” fireworks show that would start once it got dark. We happened to find a side road with an old wooden fence along the side of it. We all hopped on the fence and had great seats for the show. Honestly, I am really not a huge fan of fireworks shows. There are really only four different kinds of fireworks. There are the ones that make the loud bang, the ones that flower out, the ones that flower out and then sparkle, and the ones that shoot out really fast. Right? It all gets a bit boring to me. There is also something else I have been thinking about. It happened just last night. Your mother and I have new neighbors across the street right now. They are a young couple. They invited me over for a beer last night. As I sat outside with them and he told me that he just got out of the army and was back from Iraq not too long ago. He said that he was really struggling with hearing all of the fireworks going off in the neighborhood these past few nights. He said it brought back too many bad memories. He told me about a good friend he had in Iraq. His friend was a magnificent guitar player. He had his guitar shipped over there so he could continue to play it. Soon after they all got there, his friend lost his right arm in battle. At this point in the story, my neighbor kind of just stopped talking and looked out into his yard. The fireworks down the street kept going BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Every time they went of, he flinched. Just a little bit. After a couple seconds of this, his wife took up the story and told me that his friend had a new prosthetic arm built that enabled him to continue to play. She said there are videos on Youtube of him playing with his new arm. I didn’t know what to say to that. But it reminded me that fireworks are our reconstruction of battle. They are the bombs and the bullets and they guns that have done so much damage to so many people over the years. Maybe some people think this is a good way to celebrate our Independence every year. Not me. I think maybe I can most honor those that fight for our country by finding his friend on the Internet and watching him play his guitar. But last year, sitting on that fence with my family, surrounded by the foothills of the Rockies and a slice of America I don’t get to see too often, life was just about fine for me.   Happy 4^th, TJ. I’ll see you next week. Daddy