US Independence Day in 1976 was interesting because it was the bicentennial, and it is also the year I can remember where I was on that day (all the other years, okay, I was probably watching fireworks near the Columbia River someplace) because I was with a busload of high school students in Budapest, Hungary. Gee, 26 years ago. We stayed in some gigantic, monolithic Communist era hotel with some Euro-Communist-style name like Eurotel or something. The balconies had orange awnings, I think. I remember I did a little naked sunbathing on the balcony for a while, feeling European. I also (no longer naked) exchanged cash dollars for Hungarian forints in the restroom in the cellar of the hotel, for a good black-market exchange rate. And the evening of the fourth of July was spent dancing around in what, in my memory, seems like a big disco somewhere in the city, surrounded by Hungarians wishing us a happy Fourth of July.
A day or so after that, we traveled by bus to a small town in Austria that was my favorite place of the whole trip (not only because I kissed my first girl there, who is still cute although a little snaggle-toothed) – and believe me, we visited a lot of cool places, like Belgium (where we spent about 45 minutes driving from France to Holland, and ate “french fries” which are actually a Belgian invention). Little did I know back then that I would end up living there (in the small Austrian town, I mean, not Belgium).
This Fourth, we won’t celebrate much. Maybe I’ll talk to my kids about what being American means to me [Bill of Rights]. Seriously. Maybe we’ll go have ice cream, then listen to the news on the radio. If it’s hot, maybe we’ll sit in the wading pool.
I sometimes forget that the fourth is a holiday until the end of the day… this has happened on Thanksgiving also. Truth is, the fourth never got me all that hot and bothered anyway, not even when I was a kid (although decorating our bikes to ride in the parade was fun until I was 10).
I remember one year my dad made us all costumes with a fast-food theme for the parade. I was the bun, my younger siblings the condiments, and our dachshund was the wiener, which we pulled through the parade in a little red wagon. Real cute.
The American holidays always take me by surprise, too. Except Thanksgiving, which we plan well in advance but hold on the weekend since it’s an all-day thing and not a holiday here.
Fast food fourth of July costumes? Your dad sounds like… well, let’s just say I beginning to have more insight into the Mig psyche!
(Are your siblings as hilarious as you and your dad?)
my beloved little sister is very funny in a wicked, wicked way.
and here’s another look into my psyche: not until you mentioned it, francis, did i think about the fastfood outfits like that, from an ironic adult perspective. i’d always just remembered it from the original 9-year-old perspective. i’m looking forward to having a word with my dad this summer.