Still the 4th

Still thinking about the 4th of July. From the yacht disaster in Long Island Sound, and the evacuation of the Shell in Boston due to electrical storms in the east, to the fireworks fiasco in San Diego, it sounds like a dangerous holiday to be sure. The announcement of the Higgs bosun could have had something to do with it? The popular name of course is The God Particle, although Leon Lederman, author of the book by that name is quoted in the all-knowing Wikipedia that it was supposed to be titled The Goddamn Particle, but that suggestion was nixed by the publisher.


But what I really was thinking about was a parade many years ago in Woodacre, California. There is always a July 4th parade in Woodacre, a very small town, and almost not enough people to both be in and watch the event. The end of the parade was always a man with a wheelbarrow and shovel to clean up after the hourses.


My son, Will, was about eight, and my daughter, Alwyn, was about six. As I recall. Alwyn and her friend, Maggi, for weeks had planned to be ballerinas and were fully tutued in pink, their hair was in classical ballet buns, and they each had a Gerbera Daisy as part of the hairdo. Will had declined to be in the parade until the morning of the 4th, when he decided that he wanted to be a spaceman. As a mother I had to often think very hard and fast to get out of a tight spot, and this was a very tight spot. There are no stores in Woodacre, and it was too late to drive "over the hill" to Fairfax, and besides I think all stores were closed on the 4th in those days. My hard and fast thinking came up with a motorcycle helmet covered in aluminum foil, a pair of shorts, and a lot of green poster paint. He wasn't a friendly spaceman, and followed the adorable dancing girls, stomping his bare feet and roaring at the crowd. He was adorable too.


I have a picture somewhere of the three of them. I also have a picture of me at the end of the parade, wearing a short short skirt, with a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. But that's another story.