If you speak Pig Latin, and many of us raised in the great "US of A" had at least a Summer Intro to Pig Latin, then you know that this post title translates to:
No Fireworks (Nix the Fireworks).
That's right, NO FIREWORKS!
That best describes our Fourth of July. This was not by choice.
The Fourth is a personal FAVORITE of mine because the colors-- edra, itewha and uebla (more Pig talk) look amazing in their many forms; from flowers, to my flag-cross, to the basic flag in all sizes ... even jello shots hopped on the patriotic hue train. Yes, someone whose Pig Latin name is Oyceja Owsna texted me beforehand and asked if she could bring jello shots.
The first and last time I experienced jello shots, I was 25, dating Teckie and his friend and I danced on a coffee table and broke it in two! I hesitated to bless the gelatin booze, fearing a meandering teenager might pluck one up and then there would be TROUBLE: with a capital T and that rhymes with B and that stands for BUSTED!!
SIDENOTE: If you have not watched The Music Man then that last sentence makes me sound like a babbling idiot and leaves you confused. Just rent the Music Man, please. It's an American Classic and Marion the Librarian, young Shirley Jones, is darling. Sweet Love story too.
We welcomed the jello shooters in cute tiny red solo cups and they were enjoyed by some over-21 folks. No broken tables or craziness resulted. Just lots of singing in the dark, staring up, while anticipating thundering fireworks to blow up illuminating-spectacular colors across the night sky any minute. We passed that slow fireworkless hour singing Happy Birthday to Miss Piggy (yes, again, I know), God Bless America and other statesmanlike tunes :)
Apparently, the fireworks company had a problem with the ignition and after an hour of troubleshooting, the show was cancelled.
It was literally a "no-show."
Benson was upset and I understand that. For city-wide-sugar-pumped children it must have felt like anticipating Santa Claus and then being told (due to sleigh malfunction) The Red Suit wasn't showing up.
Now, go home and go to bed kids.
It was odd having folks over with no fireworks to wrap up the night.
What a dud ending. This was a Fourth that none will forget; it was different, but in a not-so-great way.
I came to the conclusion that cancelled fireworks are not nearly as disappointing as pediatric-open-heart surgery (my measuring stick for life's disappointments). So all things relative, I shrugged it off, played some ping pong, ate a month's worth of homemade desserts and called it a night.
I left my flag-cross up and fav quote because it makes me happy.
I like being happy.
I like July Fourth and fireworks.
And, apparently today, I like Pig Latin.