The Sensible Families Let the Twelve Year-olds Drive Home

‘Fireworks illegal here, too,’ she said, chatting fondly about the old school Fourth of July days with a friend they couldn’t know would die within the week,

‘which makes me nostalgic for those southern Fourth of Julys back in the day, in that humid Georgia heat where overloaded motorboats stuffed with family and friends pile in and putter over to join the crowd in the giant cove down the way and everyone drinks for hours under boiling hot sun, half feral kids swimming among boat engine slicks and playing tag underneath and around hulls with cousins and friends, until sparklers, smoke bombs and fire crackers are finally allowed to be set off near all kinds of highly flammable liquids, everyone pouring rejuvenation a la Co’ Cola or Fresca, add Jack for adults, while waiting for full dark and then finally bursts of color and noise rain over bobbing multitudes of boats, reflecting new freckles on finally-settled-down faces until silence and dark return,

and then, in a sudden unified roar of engines a couple hundred and more motorboats with whiskey-and-beer-chaser-sodden dads at the helm usually (except the sensible families), take off in almost-unison creating mini-tsunamis, heading toward home and oncoming lightning storms while seasick-on-sugar little kids in the back puke off the stern...

‘Just not the same these days at all.’ she finished, lost in the rosy glow.

~ Happy Fourth

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Comment by Anna Herrington on July 3, 2018 at 11:17pm

This excerpt taken from the last chat-in-a-thread some of us had with tr ig last year. You are missed, Steve, thanks for bringing out the stories.

Comment by Jonathan Wolfman on July 4, 2018 at 5:07am


Comment by koshersalaami on July 4, 2018 at 8:08am

This is great. Thank you

Comment by J.P. Hart on July 4, 2018 at 9:35am

Safe & sane $ July 2018 to you, dear Anna! Allow me to attest: there's hope for everyone. And you got me 'fectin' on those late adolescent undressed yankee-doodle-dandyish Fourths. When Leah and me would strive to perfect coitus along with the fireworks' finale.

We'd an heirloom Pendleton blanket. Wondrously gaga in love, near the 18th green, that taste of Mateus Rose', you could hear the orchestra down on the beach, near those cliffside willows.

Hey! Student (who'd alerted me to your most excellent post) contacts me right now: 'Huh! Why don't you just spin Dionne Warwick's Midnight Train to Georgia?? Maybe segue into Bobby Vinton's Blue Velvet? I bet you still have Leah's prom garter, don't you?? Just let dear Anna know she flies like an eagle . . .

Comment by Anna Herrington on July 4, 2018 at 9:50am

Thanks guys ~ Happy Fourth! 

(Steve always managed to pull out the good stories from people and told quite a few himself ... I really miss him around here.)

Comment by Anna Herrington on July 4, 2018 at 9:52am

J.P. - thank you for adding your own! I love it, perfect coitus aspirations with firework accompaniment!


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