on patriotism

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my earliest, and favorite memories of Independence Day was spent jumping off of rocks the size of two story houses, fishing for crawdads and getting burnt to a crisp at Lake Tahoe. the cool evenings on the top level of a parking garage, lying on top of the suburban, on top of a lumpy electrical blanket (i thought everyone brought their old electrical blankets for picnics) and oohing and ahhing at each burst of light. the radio static would eventually leak through a few strains of a patriotic song and we would devour bags of candy before heading home in utter bliss.the kids have never disappointed on the 4th of July, except the one year we woke Lucy up for the fireworks and she asked to go back to bed. . . .

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