Summa Time, Summa Time

Yes, it's summer.  We have been on The Cape for over a week now. The last few days in June were quiet, warm and lazy.  I rode my bike the mile into town and two cars passed me.  I walked in and ordered a sandwich, chatted with the deli-man, bought a bag of chips and rode home.  We took the grandkids to the beach and I chased them all over the hard sand of low tide. The sun set very late and quietly over the Bay.

I thought I could hear the rumble coming.  Still, I wasn't prepared.

Twenty-four hours later I rode my bike to town to buy sandwiches for everyone.  The road was packed.  I had to wait in order to make the left turn into the parking lot.  It was good I was on my bike as there were no places left to park.  The line to get a sandwich snaked around like the line to ride Thunder Mountain.  The deli-man, his brother, his cousin and the two guys they brought in from the Sandwich Maker's Union didn't have time to look up.  They just read the pieces of paper with orders written down on them and kept chopping and spreading mustard.

The beach parking lots were full. There was hardly any room to put the strollers for the grand-boys.  The tide was rolling in and almost all the soft sand was covered with people. People were chatting, sleeping, digging and flirting. Summer arrived!

It was the Fourth of July Weekend.

America was enjoying it's freedom.  Our family was together.  Other families surrounded us.  My nieces was in a house about a mile away with her husband.  His family was there.  Eighteen people and six dogs in a four bedroom house.  The family next door to us always brings everyone in for this holiday.  They have that house and another one near the beach.  They have lots of people, brothers, and a sister, husbands, wives and kids, ex-wives and step-kids, boyfriends and girlfriends, babies and dogs.  I never remember who is attached to whom. The smile and wave.  They all run a race against each other every years to see if the new wives are faster than the ex-wives.  Whatever.

A few hundred people turn out at night for the fireworks on the beach. Fireworks are not legal in Massachusetts. But for an hour there were almost as many fireworks going off as there were over Boston Harbor.  Lots of little puffs of color in the air, but also many, many big boomers lighting up the sky and filling the night with colors, lights and sounds, falling down on my head from two hundred feet above me. People sitting around bonfires, cheering each booming display. I sat down in the dark and a shadowy form next to me handed me a beer.

Thanks, I said. Enjoy your freedom.

Our kids and their kids all left in the morning to beat the traffic.  Other friends drove in from New York and brought their friends with them. No more changing diapers, just eating and drinking on the porch. They will leave Tuesday morning and other people are due to show up Tuesday night and more on Wednesday.

Somewhere in my mind I am aware of how fortunate I am, and as the real people realize, it is really about Family and Friends.  Yes, I know that somewhere out there some people really take Donald Trump seriously.  But that's their problem  I guess that's what freedom is all about.

I leave you with today's musical tribute:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xeNAgBFmJpM