The Day after the 4th of July

When I lived in Lexington in the later '70's,  my old boyfriend (and still friend) Dave would have the gang of friends that continually gathered at his apartment, practice our 'oohs' and 'aahs' for several days before the Fourth of July fireworks display. Then he would direct us, like a chorus, as we gathered on blankets by the UK stadium to watch the show.

Seattle used to have two sets of fireworks to choose from--one over Puget Sound put on by Ivar's which was a traditional set of fireworks, and one over Lake Union that had music accompanying it.  My former husband and I made the mistake of venturing into the Ivar's crowds off the Sound for the 4th of July our first summer in Seattle ('81), and the noise was just like being in downtown Beirut minus the bloodshed.  Ivar's went out of the fireworks business several years ago, and it looked like there might not be one at Lake Union either this year. But concerned citizens, and government types and corporate leaders got together two months ago, and saved Seattle's 2010 big bangs.

The day after the 4th is also an anniversary of sorts for me--it's the day my marriage blew up the first time in 1991.  Though blindsided by the explosion, I worked with the ex to put things back together and the marriage maintained until it finally died on Oct. 22, 1999, three days before our 19th anniversary.  Downtown Beirut in more ways than one.

I prefer to practice 'oohs' and 'ahs.'