I was thinking about this the other day. We have had lots of truly memorable July 4ths. We used to go to Tennessee for the 4th when the children were smaller. For several years, we would go over to the beautiful home of one of my fabulous husband's family members and have a cookout while the men prepared an outrageous fireworks display. I always thought that was so much fun. It rivaled lots of small-town fireworks displays and they always did it so there was a run up to the grand finale. Awesome.
Two years ago we went to the fireworks show in Nashville, right by the river. It was sad to see it all underwater with the recent flooding--same place, that's right where we were two years ago and it was under 30 feet of water just a few months ago. Anyway, we got there pretty early and we saw all sorts of performers but the one I was there to see was Michael McDonald. That was pretty amazing. And free! We also saw Phil Vassar that day, much to our delight. I had never heard of him but we all enjoyed his performance very much (ok, some of us more than others...). Here's Phil:
And here's Michael:
I told the story in my blog (with the above photos) here: Independence Day in Music City
In 1997 or 1998, we were visiting my sister for the 4th of July and we ended up going to Philadelphia to watch the parade and then stayed for the fireworks. Somehow we ended up in this field not too far from where the musicians were playing, but completely out of sight of them, and most of the crowds. We spread out blankets, bought glow sticks for the children both to keep track of them and to give them something to do, and we lay back on the blankets and listened to the music and watched the sky. Ray Charles was there that night, and he sang for a while and it was magical.
Then, four years ago, we visited my friend Carol at her home in New York. A few months before the trip, she suggested we get tickets to see Paul Simon, who was playing at Doubleday Field on the 4th of July. And so we did, and so that brought us to Cooperstown on the 4th of July. We saw Grandma Moses paintings at the Fenimore Art Museum (well, some of us did anyway). Actually I can't remember now if that was even the same day but it was very cool, regardless. We brought some stuff from Carol's home and some stuff that we'd packed and then we stopped at a grocery store and got the rest of the fixings for a picnic. And that is where the magical part comes in. We drove around a little, looking for a place to eat, and ended up parking the cars and walking down a mostly residential street that ran alongside Doubleday Field, which was a few streets over. There was an old white Presbyterian church with a nice green front lawn and no stern deacon hanging around, so we set up shop and settled in. As we were eating, we noticed that there was a lot of noise coming from the direction of the field. Musical noise. And then...and then we heard Paul Simon. Yes, Paul Simon was warming up for the concert that evening, or doing a sound check, and he serenaded us live from just a few thousand feet away as we had our picnic. Now that is a magical thing. I remember him doing Diamonds on the Soles of her Shoes and also part of my very very most favorite Simon and Garfunkel song. Here he is doing it for the show that night: Paul Simon, July 4 2006 at Doubleday Field. Ahhhhhhh. What a day that was. Some days are just marked like that from beginning to end and you hardly realize it until they are over.
And this year? Well, this year I worked, and it was quiet, and I spent the evening after I was done working with my fabulous husband and we watched a movie. And that was just normal everyday magical, but normal everyday magical is worth celebrating, too.
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