Fourth of July

It's erev July 4 weekend, as the observant ones would say. I always think back to July 4ths of yore...

Growing up on LI, it was a big deal. First, July 4 meant Summer --no school, and swimming and baseball weather. I'd always loved fireworks, and my family always went to a display somewhere.

I remember one year, being very young and driving to Jones Beach. The after exposions were scary and exhilerating.

Most years we went to Salisbury (later Eisenhower) Park in Hempstead. We'd spread a blanket and lay back and watch the show. Afterwards, I always marvelled at how my father found our car among so many in the huge, dark parking field.

I remember July 4, 1983 as a particularly sad one. My father had died the year before, and Dr. Eric came up to stay in Delray for the weekend. I was working that Summer at Boca Hospital, and he and I took my mother to FAU to watch the display.

I spoke to Eric yesterday. He plans to watch the FAU display on Sunday --he lives nearby now. I reminded him of our attendance 27 years ago. He remembered...

The Summer of 1984, Wifey and I were newly committed boy and girlfriend. Miami Beach had a huge concert on the sand --the Beach Boys were going to play. We were so excited, we spent the night before at Wifey's friend's Yvonne's South Beach apartment, and we walked to the beach around 11 am on the 4th.

There was of course 10 hours before the concert and fireworks, so we sat on the beach and I drank and drank and drank. Wifey's friend Jeannette was there, and we met her cousin Dennis. The sunbathing and drinking continued.

The show started, and the Beach Boys (and some of the Moody Blues) had a special guest: Ringo Starr. Jeannette, a huge Beatles fan, took off like a wild woman for the stage, to see her idol up close.

By this time, I was more drunk than I had ever been in my 23 years, and I just lay in the sand with a vagues sense that I was alive.

When the show ended, I couldn't have found my way to even the ocean. Wifey took my hand and led me back to the apartment on Washington Avenue, and from there she drove home. I remember being so grateful for her that night. We still lead each other, when necessary -- more than 1/4 century later.

This Sunday we're going to have a late dinner at Calimari's in the Grove, a restaurant we love because you sit in a fanned and misted courtyard and think you're in Venice. From there, we'll walk to Peacock Park and watch the fireworks.

D1 is headed to JVille to spend the 4th with her boyfriend at his Dad's Country Club --they have fireworks over the ocean there.

D2 and her boyfriend may join Wifey and me --it's a game time decision, apparently.

What a fine holiday --our nation's birthday. I'm a third generation American, and wonder where we're headed. But Sunday, I know: to a party.