By Lonnie Cruse
Fourth of July. I think back to watching the fireworks at Cashman Field in Las Vegas, NV when I was a little girl. I hated the loud ones that go boom with no sparkles. All noise and no beauty. Still hate them. But I love the newer ones that spread out like a bow tie. Or those that go off, and off, and off, and . . . . Wow!
Fourth of July. Most times it's too hot and muggy, now and then it's rainy, and once in a blue moon, it's downright cold. Picnics, pot lucks, too much food, too many people, legal fireworks the city sets off over the river or illegal fireworks somebody's cousin slipped off to Sikeston, MO to buy and set off. Skeeter bugs, bug spray, candles, paper plates, and the neighbor's dog, hoping to score some dropped food. Sparklers swung in circles, lighting up the night. Red, white, and blue. Uncle Sam. Patriotism.
Fourth of July. However you celebrate the anniversary of our free country, and hopefully give thanks to those who died to keep it that way, may you have way too much fun and too much food and too many people in your life. And too many fireworks. Do, please, be careful. Those sparklers get hot.