river rat.

july 4th, 2005 (the day i should have written this)
i've come to realize that july 4th is quite possibly my most favoritest day of the year, which causes a pang of guilt to echo through my body since it is also one of the most bogus days of the year. yay capitalism! BANG! yay conspicuous consumption! BOOM! yay ignorance! POP!
i woke up that morning to find the sun out, the air warm but not oppressive. weather that inspires people to say things like, "you couldn't ask for a better day," and "we sure lucked out with this one." i got in the car with A & C and we rolled out of town. winding down the road towards J's house, the air shady and cool, i started to think that maybe i could live there, maybe i could settle down in shelton, in a house between the river and the railroad tracks, trees and quiet and neighbors like extended family. i thought of how pastoral it would sound on my book jackets.
we stroll into J's back yard and one of the first people i see is chris - i take an extra millisecond to find him under his hat, behind his cop sunglasses, his eleven years housed in the lanky boy before me - and i'm thrilled. it's the perfect surprise.
from there, the whole day appears in my memory as a blur of vivid blues, lush greens, sparkling glints of sunshine. the quintessential lazy day. jumping into the river, happy to leave behind the thoughts that wonder what might actually be dumped in there and why the rocks are so damn slimy. climbing out to dry off by basking in the sunshine. yes, basking. everyone was appreciative of what we had that day.
i played some frisbee with chris - mostly as a way to get him to stop playing wiffle ball, since i was sure i was going to get clocked. i was throwing into the wind, making me appear to be a sub-par, unskilled frisbee tosser and chris kept giving me suggestions and even offered to come over and give me a few lessons. it reminded me of my dad trying to teach me various simple athletic skills as a child (most of which i never grasped). i tried to act indignant, but it was just too funny.
chris also attempted to make a fishing pole out of the wiffle-ball bat, a shoelace, and piece of elbow macaroni from the pasta salad (which, now that i think about it, i believe had tuna in it and therefore seems like a cruel form of bait). J got him a real fishing pole and when he asked M to help him put a worm on the hooked, i was flabbergasted to see M actually do it and not throw up. impressive. my only thought as chris walked to the dock was that i hoped he wouldn't be disappointed when he didn't catch anything. really, i didn't think there was anything in there to be caught. what do i know. apparently he caught an eel when i was somewhere else.
later he and V were sitting on the back of the boat and it was a heartstring-pulling moment the most hallmark sort of way, but it was real and it was beautiful. this time, i witnessed him catch an actual fish. i couldn't contain myself and yelled with genuine surprise and delight. i heard that it was a sunfish. after some photo ops, there charitably tossed it back in the water.
i finally got my boat ride as the afternoon was closing in on evening. i got to sit next to J's grandfather and the exchanges between him and J were hysterical. i finally got to see wholand, a community only accessible by the river. based on the stories i had heard, i expected it to be more creepy and sinister and instead found myself wondering if they would let me join them. sort of. the second indian rock made me a little uneasy about the place. it's just paint, but you know there's some reality behind that angry look.
and then firecracker time. as we walked down the neighbors' yards to find the ideal viewing location, i talked up the display to M, insisting it was the best he'd ever see, listing examples of its awesomeness. "you can lay down and they are right over your head!" i tell him. then they start. and they are close, but certainly not above anyone's heads, and i start to second-guess my enthusiasm just a bit, wondering if M is disappointed in the display and me. then they start moving up. then the first of what would be dubbed the "golden showers" appears, which would continue to make us ooh and ahh and giggle simultaneously. the light seems to be dripping down on you and i challenge even the most jaded misanthrope to watch such a thing without their breath catching or a whispered "wow" slipping out. i caught myself uttering oh my god more than once, lost for any other way to express my awe. and it went on for such a long time. a few would go off together and we would all expect the finale, then it would slow down again for awhile. and the sounds.... the echo that M & i noticed at the same time, the sizzle, the pure delight from all the different groups around us.
then back to the raging bonfire and the smaller, individual fireworks displays to wind down the night.
it's almost like a make-believe day. everything is too good to be real. and i do feel a sense of shame when i think of workers in thailand gently kneading the gunpowder mixture that could explode in their hands any second in order to make some flashes in the sky for me and my spoiled compatriots to gawk at, when i think of the ash falling into the river, the embers that could start a forest fire and smoke bambi & co out of their homes. and i don't encourage the celebration of oppression and brutality and bullying, flag stickers, ribbon magnets, troop support, homeland security. it's something of a quandary. but i suppose i just enjoy seeing people i care about feeling comfortable and relaxed and really enjoying themselves and each other, even if only for a few hours. seeing people outside of a dim, sweaty bar. seeing them act spontaneous and childlike and appreciating those actions in others.
it makes me understand words like idyllic, blissful, content.