Tuesday, July 6, 2010

How to celebrate your freedoms the right way.


I am spoiled. Sometimes I am also a brat. During a bout of being a spoiled brat I was lamenting on the phone with Momma Jo, telling her that my life was basically over because there was no way I could have a Fourth of July better than the recent previous. Last year, it was Boston and Neil Diamond sang Coming to America- twice! The year before that I was somehow able to get on a boat to watch the show in DC from the Potomac River alongside the memorials... there was no way I could top these things. No matter what I did, it would pale in comparison. My life was over: Spoiled. Brat.

Well, read on readers. And for those fearing that this is just going to be a brag-blog, don't worry, there are descriptions of the most interesting characters. So there's that too.

The Build Up

First of all, watching Top Gun under the stars is always a good idea. Always.

Now, what is even better, is waking up and floating on a tube down a river. Highlights from the River include:
-Not being able to manage a re-mount of the tube. What?
-LB peeing from laughter, and it finally being ok because we were in a river.
-Going to a National Park and asking a man in costume (a civil war solider) if he was a ghost. He wasn't.
-Laughing so hard that one ab hurt the next day
-Pulling over to the side of the road, for no other reason then to really be able to focus on singing "Country Roads" with all my might when John Denver came on the radio.

After you get home from floating a river, going to the capitol building to watch the dress rehearsal for the Capitol Fourth Concert is also a great way to celebrate our freedoms. So we went. David Archuleta sang the National Anthem, Lang Lang tickled the ivories and Reba gave me goosebumps with "Fancy". (Note: I was also able to tweet Archie and invite him to church, from 4slyce's account- don't worry I am still anti-twitter. Anyway, he didn't show but he did read the tweet.)

The Big Day
Zipping into the District was a relative breeze. We were able to roll the windows down and roll alongside a biker who loved us and clearly loved America.

Furthermore, we were fortunate enough to view the fireworks this year from a rooftop terrace that was right next door to the white house. I don't know, magical things just fall into my lap. (Shout out and thank you, Sweet Ash.) Whilst a half-million of my fellow Americans were crowding the mall, I was able to avoid such crowds and watch with an un-obstructed view from the exactly one block due north of where Obamas watched. I will never be the same.

Right after the pyrotechnic show, we sat and enjoyed the view, watched the people, watched the other area firework shows, and chatted. We met a man from Colorado. A client of the firm. He really wanted me to have a drink with him. And, I'm not going to lie, I really wanted to oblige, however Ashley stopped me. Saving my night yet again. (The even better news is that he was like 45 years old, skewing my average age to something a little more respectable.) I digress...

Another advantage to being on a rooftop is that after the whole she-bang was over, we could see the local street traffic pattern as well as the speed of travel on the bridges out of the district. After a spell, we determined it safe to depart. Clear for take off.

Walking into the parking garage I let out one of my finest "bwwoooops" and it was returned! By a chap wearing bright turquoise plaid pants. His girl in a matching sundress. They were holding hands and skipping. I don't know how they managed to find each other in this world we live in, but I am so glad they did. They were a perfect match.

We returned to our home in Arlington, lit some sparklers, whipped up a batch of chocolate chip cookies and thanked the lucky stars for the day.

The Slow Down
How do make the best weekend even bester (wasn't a word until now)... you go to the beach.


Hil said...

And you know what? I know how to make a bester weekend bestest! By having me there. Next time, you should probably remember that.

Kaylyn said...

Was the 45 year old named Chuck Toney?

Michelle said...

Soo, I wonder if you remember, my first date at Snow included skipping. But in this case, fun was not had by all. I hope all "skippers" find their counterparts quickly, so as to save the rest of us from the embarrassment. Sounds like a typical action packed weekend for you and your spoiled self.

Team Palin said...