“An inherent cultural passion for things that went boom, perhaps.”
– Louis McMaster Bujold, A Civil Campaign
I’m at work today kittens, this is one of our busiest days of the year on account of the parades, local events, and stadium fireworks show.
If we judge by history, at least one police officer will be hit by a car this evening – due to the fact that people turn into jerks when told they can’t jump the line to get out of the parking lot ahead of the fifteen thousand other cars. Seventeen people will try to bring their firearms into the stadium and throw a fit when they are turned away. Five thousand mothers will try to bring outside food in and their children will throw fits when we tell them they cannot. Four fistfights will breakout twixt fans of different sports team persuasions. Twenty five people will be arrest for public intoxication. Three small fire will be started from poorly monitored firecrackers.
And a partridge in a pear tree.
Actually, I love July 4th. I like picnics with friends, getting out in the summer sun, the local fairs and parades that spring up everywhere, getting to a park early to claim a comfy spot of grass with blankets, and watching fireworks. But I’d be lying if I said that July 4th didn’t bring out some unfortunate behavior that I wish didn’t get slathered with a veneer of patriotism. Drunk and disorderly is still drunk and disorderly, and slurring, “You carn arressssst muh, ‘s a frey country!” is not a legal defense.
On a more practical note, be careful with the fireworks, kittens. Half the country is already on fire.