A Mostly Uninformed Guide To Independence Day Grilling

First thing you need to decide is the meat.  I’m partial to burgers.  I’m not judging or casting aspersions if you decide supplement your burger menu with brats or hot dogs.  I’m just not doing that.  Truth be told, brats and my gut get along roughly the same way as Ferris Bueller and Mr. Rooney.  And hot dogs…well…that’s not food.  Doesn’t matter if you call it a wiener, a frank or a red hot.  It’s still a hot dog.  Although I prefer calling them wieners.  Because saying wiener is funny and my sense of humor is still 14 years old. 

Now, I realize that the hot dog barons have gone to great lengths to disguise what the wiener truly is.  And to be frank (see what I did there?) nobody is completely certain what makes up the hot dog, although most wiener scholars agree it is some kind of combination of beef, pork, turkey, chicken and either raccoon or groundhog.  Depending on your preferences, you might dress your wiener up with pickle relish, onions, sliced tomatoes, sauerkraut, horseradish, pickles, chili, bacon or even jalapenos.  But most Americans stick with ketchup and/or mustard. 

Now since we’re Americans and we can always make wieners more interesting, we came up with the corn dog which rarely wanders outside of its native habitat of the Iowa State Fair.  Next, we developed the common American bagel dog.  The bagel dog, while a staple of suburban street cuisine, doesn’t normally make an appearance at the typical Independence Day cookout. 

Which brings us to the burger.  The venerable trustworthy delicious burger.  Burgers form the backbone of standard American grill fare the same way spandex and shredded jeans formed the backbone of hair metal attire.

First, condiments.  Lettuce, tomato, ketchup, mustard, pickles, onions.  Absolutely.  You pick.  The real decision comes with cheese.  First, it’s Independence Day so American cheese occupies whatever place on the cheese plate indicates awesomeness.  Next, cheddar.  Cheddar cheese is American cheese’s sometimes cool cousin.  Looks similar, adheres to grilled meats in a natural way but just not as good as American.  Kinda like Canada. 

Other choices?  Well there’s swiss. But I don’t really like to allow swiss onto the cheese menu for Independence Day.  The swiss aren’t really reliable allies and there are consequences for that.  Then there’s pepper jack, gouda and provolone I guess.  But here’s the deal, outside of pepper jack, I don’t like to get too creative with the cheese choices.  So, if you must, include some pepper jack.  But be forewarned.  Pepper jack isn’t for everybody.  Like free speech is to the left.

Finally, the meat.  Or meats.  Most, if not all, of your burgers should rightfully be beef.  Good ol’ midwestern raised beef.  If you were to compare burgers to NATO, beef is the USA.  Beef carries the entire cookout, smells great on the grill only to hear the Germans complain there isn’t any bratwurst. 

Next comes your bird meat.  Which is pretty much limited to turkey.  Turkey burgers are good.  But they’re not for Independence Day.  It’s like wearing a “I’m with AOC” shirt to a tailgate.

Your next grouping are your alternative burgers.  Elk.  Venison.  Bison.  Native to North America, high in protein and low in cholesterol.  Include them among your 4^th of July grilled meats.  Elk burgers are awesome.  Legit awesome.  Plus you feel like frontiersman eating what you kill.  Which, or course, you’re not.  You picked them up in the health section of the grocery store.  Doesn’t matter.  Wear a suede jacket with fringe and a cowboy hat when grilling these to get the full experience.

So there are some ideas for the grill.  My suggestion is you fire it up, take a pair of tongs and couple them with several ice cold beers.  Something nostalgic.  Stroh’s.  Pabst Blue Ribbon.  Old Milwaukee.  Miller High Life.  It’ll make it feel like the 70’s.  Which should seem familiar anyway with high gas prices, runaway inflation and left-wing crazies blowing up police stations…

Maximum Liberty Play List

Granted, if you’re like me the play list you listen to on Independence Day pretty much consists of Kid Rock, Toby Keith, and the theme to Monday Night Football.  That being said, I have put some thought into a potential play list for you guys.  Or at least a basic foundation from which you can enjoy cold beers, grilled burgers, the Bill of Rights and loud, colorful freedom explosions.

Just to get this out of the way, yes, every play list you develop for this weekend needs to include Lee Greenwood’s “Proud To Be An American” and Toby Keith’s “Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue.”  If you just raised your eyebrows at that assertion, then I can only assume that you cheered for the Soviets in Lake Placid.

Aside from those reliable measures of your love for the Constitution, here are a few more suggestions.  Suggestions that were, in fact, aided by Miller Lite tallboys.

We’re Not Gonna Take It

More than once Dee Snider has called out the elite, self-appointed Ivy League overlords of both political parties who also happen to populate many of the key spots in government, media, education and finance.  So Dee and the boys paraphrased the Declaration of Independence and wrote “We’re Not Gonna Take It.” 

Born Free

Listen if you’re part of the demographic that likes driveway beers, hair metal and the First Amendment then Kid Rock is going to make sense to you.  If you’re part of the demographic who likes The View, lockdowns and Green Day, then this song isn’t for you.  If you’re confused where you fall, go to Youtube.  Watch these Kid Rock videos:  Johnny Cash, Tennessee Mountain Top and Greatest Show On Earth.  If they offend you and just don’t make any sense, you fall into the latter group. 

Coming to America and Forever in Blue Jeans

I just couldn’t decide which song deserved to be on the list so I put them both on it.   We had the 8-Track of Neil Diamond’s Greatest Hits and we played it A LOT during family car trips during the summers way back in the late 70’s and early 80’s.  So nostalgia plays a role here but so do the lyrics.  Neil’s grandparents were immigrants from Poland and Russia.  Immigrants from Poland and Russia know what real facism and communism look like.  Coming to America is a tribute the Great American Melting Pot.  Forever in Blue Jeans is about how the simple things are really the important things.

Yankee Rose

July 3-6, 1986 was Liberty Weekend in America.  President Reagan led America in celebrating 100 years of the Statue of Liberty.  Yankee Rose is a 100 mph, testosterone fueled, monster truck of freedom dedicated to Lady Liberty. 

Summertime

There may not be a song on the planet that better describes a holiday weekend barbecue with friends, family and freedom more than Will Smith’s Summertime.  But if Americans unabashedly celebrating George Washington, Ayn Rand and John Rambo with grilled meats covered in cheese, Dads in jean shorts and high caliber water guns offends you, then our friendship is going to last about as long as Joe Biden’s lucidity.

Getting’ Better

Optimism is not an American trait.  It’s a human trait.  And no country on earth engenders optimism the America does.  Tesla sings it this way, “I’ve been changin’ the scene, if you know what I mean.  Good things are comin’ my way.  And now I’m livin’ my life, and I try doin’ it right, Sun shinin’ every day.”  Show up.  Work hard.  Save money.  Go to church.  Believe in yourself.  Don’t be a victim.  And when you get a chance, kick back and party like its your job.

I Wanna Rock

What?  I do.  And if you despise commies but love big guitar riffs and individual rights then a second Twister Sister song slides right into your inventory of freedom tunes.  This is the AC-130 Gunship of freedom rock songs.  Do you think the woke flag burning lockdown enthusiasts who believe America was never great and get emotional fulfillment by wearing black on the 4^th of July while fantasizing about blowing up Mt. Rushmore wanna rock?  No.  They don’t.

My Life

Billy Joel, intentionally or not, absolutely nailed an easily understood description of individual freedom perfect for Independence Day: “I don’t care what you say anymore, this is my life.  Go ahead with your own life, leave me alone.”  Amen, brother.  Amen.

Sweet Freedom

First, if you haven’t watch Running Scared in awhile, go do it on Monday.  You’ll need some time in the basement dealing with your Busch Light hangover.  This is one of those forgotten 80’s classics.  Sweet Freedom is its theme song and you really can’t go wrong when you put the word “sweet” directly in front of the word “freedom.”

Banned In The USA

When is the last time you listened to this song?  Been almost 30 years right?  Go do it.  I’ll wait…

Yeah, you get it now.

American Rock ‘n Roll

I just really like this song and it’s titled American Rock ‘n Roll.  So yeah.

East Bound and Down

Because America needs more Burt Reynolds and more black Trans-Ams.

Something To Be Proud Of

Who am I kidding here…just throw on any song from Montgomery Gentry.  You could go with Damn Right I Am, My Town or Hell Yeah pretty easily.  In fact, you should.  Add those to the list.  Because, you know, this is America and if you want to play a song you can.  I mean, at least until, Pelosi starts regulating speech and outlawing actual words.  But in the meantime, “Am I proud of where I stand? Damn right I am.”

Crazy Nights

Kiss is the OG’s of American badass pyrotechnic party rock.  Which means they represent the foundation of middle finger irreverent freedom.  Which, by the way, I share some sympathies.  Crazy Nights, besides being awesome, is about liking what you like and being who you are.  So for 50 year-old dudes who like a lot of stuff from the late 80’s and early 90’s, this song resonates.

Bonus Track – Kiss My Country Ass

Now I ain’t country.  But this song offends the same people who get offended by waving the red, white, blue on the 4^th of July so it gets a spot on the list.

There you have it.  Assuming you don’t believe the Soviets were unfairly cast as the bad guys in Red Dawn, go and celebrate American awesomeness on the 4^th of July like it was meant to be celebrated.

Mowing And Freedom

I like mowing.  Sure the first few mows of the year are tough because your back and legs aren’t in mowing shape yet.  Plus, whatever endurance and functional strength you gained from shoveling snow off your driveway and sidewalks has dissipated by the time you roll into April.  By the time you get to your first mow your body isn’t ready for mowing because you’ve spent the last month watching college basketball which requires exactly zero of the same skills it takes to nail a really quality and enjoyable mow.  However your alcohol tolerance should be at peak performance levels.

One of the top reasons I like mowing because it is good thinking time.  Some guys use their time on the shitter for thinking time.  And that’s not a bad strategy.  Nobody is coming in the bathroom while you’re in there so it’s quiet.  Pro tip if you really want to be left alone while you’re in there – make some short audible comments that end in a question mark.  Like, “hmmm?” or “what the…?” Sounds stupid doesn’t it?  It works.  But the downside is that eventually your legs fall asleep and your stuck in there like Sgt. Murtaugh in Lethal Weapon 2.  So I use my mowing time for deep thinking.

But there are some dudes who don’t like mowing.  And while I intellectually understand that these dudes exist, don’t confuse that for sort of empathy.  Generally speaking I think these dudes fall into one of two groups.  Farmers.  Or communists.

1) Farmers

Farmers don’t like mowing.  You know why?  Because they don’t make any money mowing.  They are spending money to mow.  They have to burn gas and they have to push a machine instead of riding in it.  Granted a lot of farmers have commercial grade riding mowers or an attachment to one of their assortment of tractors which allows them to not only mow really tall grass but also take down relatively small trees in the process.  Which sounds awesome.  But I guess it makes sense that if you have to spend a lot of time in a combine making money, mowing is kind of a letdown.  Mostly because they aren’t sitting in a giant air-conditioned combine guided by GPS so their rows are perfect while they listen to podcasts about FDR’s failure at the Teheran Conference in 1943.

2) Communists. 

Communists hate anything that an individual can accomplish on their own without the help of the government intelligentsia.  Mowing is a threat to everything commies believe in. 

A single individual operating with autonomy on private property?  Unacceptable. 

The ability to assess your work immediately without approval from the statist illuminati?  Forbidden.

Taking pride in one’s own work and being able to celebrate the fruits of that work?  Capitalist piggishness.

An independent Dad using varying mow patterns as an art form?  Art that doesn’t equally distribute wealth, abolish private property and glorify state reeducation camps!?!?!  To the gulag with you!

America, that’s why

So this Independence Day weekend, take joy in the mundane self-determined tasks that we often overlook.  Because we’re only one more nutjob socialist in the US Senate away from being locked in our houses again.

Also, if the opportunity arises, head down to your local fireworks retailer.  My suggestion for those of you who aren’t sure what to purchase is to look for products that are called something along the lines of “Dr. Boom’s Mad Dog TNT Eagle Claw Blaster Shells.”  Another decent guideline is look for things that recommend you stand outside of some kind of “blast zone radius.”  If something is labeled with “maximum allowed by law” or “high altitude atomic freedom storm” also should give you confidence.

Lastly, if a neighbor attempts to impose some of sort local communist diktats about noise ordinances, just respond with a simple “America, that’s why.” 

Happy Independence Day everybody.

Independence Day Ramblings

When it comes to discussions and debates about the awesomeness of summer, it is difficult to overstate the significance of the Fourth of July. It is to summer days what Mean Joe Greene was to the Super Steelers of the 70’s. Its what Joe Elliot was to shredded jeans my senior year of high school. What Dr. Venkman was to the Ghostbusters.

Many of you have your own traditions. As do I. They mostly involve Miller Lite, sparklers and an incoherent rant about the systematic and relentless creep of federal intrusion into the lives of everyday Americans who just want to be left the hell alone. Sometimes I’ll veer off and get lost in my disgust for FDR’s economic advisors and Woodrow Wilson’s passage of the income tax. But, just as easily, I’ll be diverted into a discussion about the cars I’d buy if I hit the lottery. What? Like you don’t have your own top 3…in no particular order, Bandit’s ’77 black Trans-Am from Smokey and the Bandit, Blake Shelton’s truck in the Boys ‘Round Here video and then the black Lamborghini in Cannonball Run. Pretty sure if you were a teenage boy in the 80’s, you had a poster of a Lambo on your wall.

Anyway, as with most holidays, I enjoy them. You have traditional favorites like Thanksgiving, Christmas and Independence Day. Some of you will have Halloween in there. Others will list Valentine’s Day thereby admitting their susceptibility to corporate America’s marketing schemes. Then you may have your own personal partialities. For example I’m looking forward to Opening Sunday of the NFL Season, Season Premiere For The Walking Dead (Oct. 11 btw) and whatever day it is that Rock Bottom starts selling Pumpkin Ale. And then there’s Every Single Friday Afternoon. Is there a time of the week Americans look forward to more than that period of time right after you leave work on Friday? Because, just like Loverboy said back in 1983, everybody really is working for the weekend. And everybody really does just want to get it right, get it right…

The girls have made this year’s Independence Day celebration a sort of homage to Lewis and Clark. They’ve spent the last couple of days sleeping on the neighbor’s trampoline with friends. They said its comfortable. I don’t believe them. But they have everything America’s westward explorers had – blankets, gunpowder, oiled cloth, snacks, i-Pods, etc. All without the threat of grizzly bears. Although Bails insists she saw a bobcat in our backyard at one point…

Independence Day 2014

The 4th of July, as holiday rankings go, is a pretty solid third for me. Thanksgiving and Christmas are 1 and 2 respectively. Although I gotta admit that it’s a pretty tight race for that top spot. It’s like deciding your favorite Def Leppard song. Photograph or Armageddon It? Tough call. Regardless, I think I’ve landed pretty squarely on Independence Day as my number 3. There was a spirited debate between The 4th and Halloween but in the end, grilled burgers, cold beers and high explosives won out. I am American after all. Plus I get to lecture everybody else about the glaring lack of patriotism on their houses as nearly everyone fails to display Old Glory. C’mon man, at the very least, pretend for one day, you have at least a conversational grasp of American history and traditions and hang the freaking Stars and Stripes out front. You can borrow one of my flags. I have three. A Gadsden Flag featuring the Don’t Tread on Me symbol depicting a rattlesnake. A rattlesnake, according to Benjamin Franklin, was a good symbol for America since America “never begins an attack, nor, when once engaged, ever surrenders.” The Betsy Ross Flag displaying the thirteen stars arranged in a circle. This is my favorite. And I have our current edition with 50 stars. Although I don’t think anybody would be that upset if we reduced it to 49 and let Illinois leave the union. I’m embarrassed to say I spent a good deal of my youth growing up in America’s most corrupt state. I feel bad for the all the folks in the Land of Lincoln not from Cook County yet have to deal with the waste from Rahm and Springfield.

Anyway, Independence Day, like most holidays is about traditions. This one just happens to be about America. And summer. Tough to extricate summer from the 4th. I’m writing this on the morning of our nation’s birthday and I’ve already heard firecrackers off in the distance. It won’t be long before I start smelling the sweet, sweet intoxicating aroma of grilled meat. Is there anything more 4th of July than Americans untrained in the use of explosives and gunpowder blowing stuff up while smoke from a grill rolls across the neighborhood backyards? I can still remember my Dad pulling the grill out onto the driveway, swearing at the charcoal as it failed to light and then running with my friends across the backyards of our neighbors as we nearly lost our minds in anticipation of fireworks. I still am somewhat befuddled by the anticipation and excitement for fireworks. I mean, for kids, anticipation and Christmas morning go together like the Obama administration and learning about scandals on the news just like the rest of us. That was sarcasm by the way. Regardless, Americans have been getting together for neighborhood parties since, well, since Lexington and Concord. Difference is back then the British showed up wearing the wrong colors for the party so a bunch of guys, fresh from the local tavern, walked out to meet them. After realizing they were outnumbered the Americans, as Americans sometimes do, talked some smack, flexed their guns and let them know in pointed terms to get the hell off our lawn. Also that taxes sucked. Especially when the money paid went to people who didn’t pay any taxes. Hey, wait a minute…

Anyway, the British, being the heavy favorites according to Vegas odds and not wanting to deal with all their jerkoff bosses back in Boston if they came home with a loss, decided these drunk, small town, animal skin wearing, Kid Rock looking hicks needed to be shown a lesson in manners and professional military combat maneuvers. And, after the typical back and forth jawing often seen at tailgate parties, Thanksgiving dinner and shows hosted by Bill O’Reilly…somebody decided to pop off a round. It was likely preceeded by the following statement, “Dude, hold this, I’m gonna try something.”

Upholding that tradition today are Americans at countless July 4th parties who, after a few cans of Sam Adams, pop off a strategically placed cuss words followed by some firecrackers and finally ending with an argument over whose fans are worse – the Red Sox or Yankees.

Today we show up with a cooler, our tailgate chairs and some deviled eggs and breakdown the top summer songs of the 80’s and early 90’s, discuss the inevitable disappointing exit from the 2014 NFL playoffs by the Peyton Manning led Broncos and the astounding level of douchiness shown by Harry Reid. This guy is like JR Ewing and Mr. Burns rolled together. We punctuate our arguments with f-bombs, our own renditions of Axl Rose’s slither dance and which beer, Miller Lite or Bud Light, really is the unofficial neighborhood get together beer. So its just like Lexington and Concord except nobody has muskets. I mean folks are drinking, talking smack, somebody shows up and causes a problem and the night ends with explosions and the smell of gunpowder. Nothing has really changed. I mean if you go ahead and forget all the unrelenting damage caused by the domestic policies of Woodrow Wilson, FDR and Obama.

And since I know you’re wondering about this – My thoughts on the topic of top summertime songs of the 80’s and early 90’s? Far, far too detailed to summarize here but, in no particular order, here’s a very short sampling of my favorites:

Midnight Blue
Technically not a summertime hit as it peaked at #5 on the charts in February of ’87. But I remember listening to it A LOT in the summer of ’87. So suck it real world timeline.

Summertime
Upon seeing this video for the first time our 14 year old daughter uttered, “Will Smith was a singer?”

Tainted Love
Nothing, absolutely nothing says summer 1982 like this song. I think their was some sort of suburban pool rule that said you had to hear this song at least once while swimming.

That’s One Big Chicken

We’re down at Mom’s folks house. Her sister is here too with her three girls. So that’s a lot of girls in the house. Pretty cool in college, not so much now.

On the way down the girls were getting a little anxious. If anxious means utterly annoying. Anyway, we stopped for a bathroom break and Mom bought the girls a bag of Cheetos to share. Did you know that Cheetos are to little kids what a nicotine patch is to smokers? Neither did I.

The cheesy, crunchy goodness soothed them for the last 20 mintues of the trip. Well not really, but it kept them from bothering us. Okay, that’s not true either. Cheetos are supposed to be a satisfying salty snack but in practice they taste so good they kick in the Leo Getz from Lethal Weapon 2 mechanism.

But we did get to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house in one piece. Mainly because the girls are developing a good appreciation of 80’s music.

Before we left yesterday, and it took us nearly all day to get out the door, we had the girls clean up their rooms. This task includes making their beds. Kinsey was going a bit too slow so I helped out. Here’s what I found buried, tucked and otherwise concealed within the sheets, blankets and stuffed animals on her bed.

If you look closely, you’ll find six books, two wallets, one flip-flop, a baton, a red wig for monkey from Build-a-Bear, various items of clothing for their dolls, a purse, scissors and a scarf. It looks like a thrift store for kids.

Anyway, small towns are cool. Especially for the Fourth of July, fireworks, pork sandwiches, potato salad and baked beans. And big wood chickens.

Yup. That’s a chicken carved out of stump.

Gadsden Flag and the Second of July

(Note: I meant to post this yesterday but my internet connection at home went Mark Sanford, I mean AWOL on me)

This morning I unfurled my Gadsden flag outside the house. It felt good. I picked July 2nd to display the flag on purpose. Why?

Well, July 2nd almost was July 4th. Back in 1776, twelve of the thirteen colonies voted for the resolution which was to become the Declaration of Independence on July 2. Only New York refused to vote “aye.” Yeah, I’m not surprised either. I mean not only did they send Hillary Clinton to the Senate but their freaking nickname is the Empire State.

July 2, 1863 was also the key day in the Battle of Gettysburg. After the Army of Northern Virginia pushed Union troops through the town onto Cemetery Ridge on July 1, both sides gathered strength through the night. General Lee attacked both Union flanks the next day leading to the fight at Little Round Top and Col. Joshua Chamberlain’s famous swinging door charge down the hill. It also set the stage for the disastrous Confederate attack on the Union center on July 3.

Plus Mom doesn’t really like the flag since it has a snake on it and she had already left for work when Bailey and I decided to display it.

Anyway, July 2 has a lot of history associated with it. You can argue the union was created and saved on the same day. It’s also Jose Canseco’s, Lindsay Lohan’s and Imelda Marcos’ birthday. So I guess there is a downside too.

Regardless, we’re headed to Mom’s folks house to watch fireworks for the 4th tomorrow morning. Here’s last year\'s post about our trip down there on the 4th. It’s Midwest small town Americana at it’s best. The Fourth of July always gives me a chance to talk history with the girls too. At breakfast this morning, I asked them if they knew why we celebrated on the Fourth of July.

Riley: Because we get to watch fireworks?

Dad: Why do we watch fireworks?

Kinsey: Because it’s fun?

Dad: Well, yeah, but why do we shoot them off and have a big celebration? What are we celebrating?

Riley: I don’t know.

Dad: The Fourth of July is the day America decided it wanted to be a free country and didn’t want the British to tell us how to do things over here.

Kinsey: What did they do that was bad.

Dad: Well remember when we talked about taxes?

Riley: Yeah, that’s when the government takes your money.

Dad: Right. Well, in America, we get to vote for the people who decide how much money they will take. Except when the British were in charge, we didn’t have any say in that. And that’s taxation without representation. And that’s not fair.

Now that’s not entirely the case as the level of taxation prior to the Revolution was actually lower than it is now. You can thank Woodrow Wilson, FDR and Lyndon Johnson for that. But that’s a tangent for a different blog.

After a little more discussion about the Fourth of July, I decided I’m going to do the smart thing and break out the Schoolhouse Rock DVD for girls after work. Plus the discussion, as most discussion with the girls, took off in a direction I hadn’t intended but ended in a pretty good spot.

Riley: So the British were bad?

Dad: I don’t know if they were bad but what they were doing was wrong so the Americans, back 234 years ago, decided if the British wouldn’t change then they’d have to fight. And they did. For nine years.

Riley: Did soldiers die?

Dad: Yeah, lots of people died. But you know Britain is American’s best friend now. At least until Obama gives the Queen another iPod.

Riley: I want an iPod too. But that’s weird that we’re friends now.

Kinsey: So I guess they just talked and worked it out just like we’re supposed to do at school.

Dad: Yup. Just like that.

See, history has everyday applications and helps you be a better parent.

Fourth of July

Didn’t start so well. After picking up the girls on the afternoon of the 3rd, I thought we’d run by the car wash and get the bird bombs washed off the car. $10 into the machine. I press “gold wash” and get two Susan B. Anthony’s as change and hit the window button.

Nothing.

The driver’s side window decided to pick the exact moment after I’d paid for a car wash to cease working. But even more funny than that is that these car washes have timers. If you pull into the wash in the allotted time window, you’re golden. If not, you’re out of luck. Well I’m frantically turning off and on everything in the car hoping for some sort of weird sequence of options to cause the window to go up. Nothing. About this time I notice that my allotted time is up. I say “stupid window” and hit button once more.

Goes up halfway, stalls, then goes up the rest of the way.

Great.

Luckily the guy at the car wash fixed me up and we got the Jeep washed anyway.

Kinsey: “Hey Dad were you mad at the window?”

Me: “Yes.”

Kinsey: “If it had a bottom would you have smacked it? If it had an eye, would you have poked it? If it had a tail would you have pulled it? If it had cheeks, would you have chubbed them?”

Then on the way down to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house the next morning I was politely reminded by local law enforcement of the 55 mph speed limit. Mom and I were talking, listening to Huey Lewis and the News (Mom’s 20th high school reunion was Saturday) and I forgot about the cruise control.

Then while we’re at the country club getting ready to watch fireworks Friday evening, Mom ditches me with the girls for awhile so she can hang with all her peeps she hasn’t seen since “The Flame” by Cheap Trick was #1 on the charts. I get up to go to the bathroom while the girls are finishing up their dinner of pork sandwiches, baked beans and cole slaw. It’s the Fourth of July, if you weren’t eating baked beans and cole slaw have your patriotism reexamined. I even let them have a little caffeine free Diet Pepsi. It’s fairly harmless and it’s the Fourth of July. Plus the girls thought it was the greatest thing since they discovered how to access the Scooby cartoons on the DVR. So I walk up to the sink to wash my hands and lean against the counter. That’s when I noticed the counter was pretty darn wet. About that same time I noticed that I had nice dark wet line about an inch and a-half thick across my shorts. I also noticed that the moisture was traveling south and that it looked like I had an accident in the bathroom.

Great. How am I going to explain this to the girls? Plus all of Mom’s high school classmates are there and here I am walking around like someone shot me in the shorts with a super soaker.

So I’m standing at the hand dryer trying to dry off my shorts while ignoring the chortling from other dudes in the bathroom And this isn’t a big bathroom. So everybody who comes in notices the guy drying his shorts with the hand dryer.

But at least things come in three’s so I figured I was done.

Fireworks turned out to be great. At one point they had Poison playing as the music. For just a moment it really did feel like the summer of ’88. Then Bailey, who is snuggled up on my lap, elbowed me in the ribs as she tried to get more comfortable and reminded me that it’s not. At the end she turns to me and says, “Holy crap Dad, that’s was loud. And sparkly.”

The Fourth of July is a cool holiday and the girls and I had a conversation on the way down about our favorite holidays. The Fourth came in third for me. Right behind Thanksgiving and Christmas. The girls were stunned that anything came before Christmas. Riley was equally perplexed at my hostility towards Valentines Day. She had me down to 11th on my rankings before I got to Valentine’s Day. It came in right behind Pulaski Day and just ahead of National Mustard Day.

“Dad, how can you not like Valentine’s Day? It’s like Christmas, but in February.”

You see what corporate marketing can do if you aren’t paying attention.

But my rankings did give me a chance to talk about other days like Veteran’s Day, Memorial Day, D-Day and Pearl Harbor Day. To my surprise, Rye tells me she knows when D-Day is and what it is about.

“It’s June 6th and it’s when the American soldiers went to France to fight the Germans and help the people there become free.”

How cool is that?

Plus the Fourth gave me a chance to fly my new Betsy Ross flag and explain to the girls why the stars are different than on our regular American flag.

So we had a good weekend and snuck in some history lessons amongst the greatest tunes of 1988 and the lessons about leaning against bathroom counters.