Clear, blue skies pushed choking humidity to the last 20 feet above the crabgrass. That way, even tall people on a ladder or a drunk sitting in a lawn chair on top of his RV could feel it. Temps flirted with 100º. Baseball and water sports, hotdogs and alcohol happened simultaneously in every part of the country. Red white and blue flags hung limp in no breeze from houses, mailboxes and storefronts. Stores had sales. HDTV’s were carried through the parking lot of Best Buy. Asses slammed against piers and heads against boat props. It was the 4th of July, and 10,000 people went to the ER with fireworks-related injuries last weekend. Some are still in the hospital. One guy blew his arm off with fireworks. God bless America.
Having grown up in the Deep South, I’d be willing to bet a few river water-soaked Andrew Jacksons that most of those injuries ended up in Southern emergency rooms. I am not biased or prejudiced. I just grew up in LA (Lower Alabama) and I know what Southerners do with fireworks, beer and a bulletproof mentality fostered by a lot of SEC football wins. We all start to think we’re George W. Bush on a WaveRunner or Lyndon B. Johnson squirting lighter fluid on a lit grill or Richard Petty driving a big Merc through chocolate water too close to the cypress roots. We get dangerous real quick down here.
“It ain’t funny ‘til somebody gets hurt,” says people who don’t mean it literally. “Maybe just a little hurt,” they add when pressed for clarification. “Not killed or nothing like that.”
10,00 people were not laughing on July 6th.
If the 4th of July festivities involve a 911 call and an ambulance, somebody has turned dumb and gotten reckless and probably near a car sitting on blocks. Then comes bandages and maybe Vicodin for the pain later that night. Unfortunately, the Vicodin is often followed by more beer and fireworks – later that night. It is like an aerial bomb strapped to an F-150’s gas tank. Remember the old Southernism, “What are the last words a redneck will ever say? ‘Hey y’all, watch this!’ ” I have both watched it and said it, and that’s why I’m writing this.
I still have a few Black Cats and bottle rockets left. I can smell the gunpowder already. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go outside with a lighter and yell, “Hey y’all, watch this!”