McLean Deluxe

ohy G-d, if you are out there, PLEASE don't make me listen to neil diamond singing “comin' to america” or lee greenwood's “g-d bless the USA” anymore!

rather than deal with the tremendous security and absurd crowds downtown yesterday, we went to mclean to see some fireworks. mclean, for those of you who are not familiar with the place, is a ritzy-titsy part of fairfax county. it is where a lot of members of congress live (like the kennedys, for example), a lot of people with a lot of money and not as many sensible ideas as to what to do with it. it isn't like i live in a poverty-stricken area — not by a long shot. but when you compare my neighborhood with mclean, we seem positively middle class. boo hoo. anyway, it is pretty close to where we live, and it sounded like a more down-home type of celebration, so off we went.

it was easily 100 degrees out on the football field where the festivities were taking place. BC bounced in the moonbounce, and BC and I were put in a plastic bubble and had to negotiation around cones in a perverse obstacle course. it was probably a thousand degrees inside the bubble, i might add. people must be completely spastic, or else BC and i must be an awesome team, because we easily negotiated the twists and turns with BC only falling down once. i saw grownups dragging their kids along in the bottom of the bubble. sheesh. BC also had something that supposedly looked like balloons painted on her face (which is STILL on her face, in bits and pieces, this morning.) The tattoo on her arm lasted all of maybe 30 minutes before she peeled it off. we all shared a snocone, and BC danced much of the evening away on the track. my lord, she is cute. anyway, you know, i only saw two people smoking the whole evening. as BS noted, smoking correlates with education, and this is probably a more educated populace than most.

however, you might have not known that thanks to the music that the DJ — Nards was their name! — played. you know, i could go another thousand years without ever having to hear lee greenwood OR neil diamond's “patriotic” fervor. and i love broooce — and everyone knows it — but you just don't put “born in the USA” on your patriotic countdown unless there is a bit of tongue in cheek going on. and judging from the intelligence level of the folks spinning, i don't think that would be possible. apparently, “surfin USA” and livin' in the usa” are also patriotic, in case you were wondering…

anyway, you know me — bitch, bitch, bitch about music. back to the fireworks. we said the pledge of allegiance (and BS and i both omitted “under g-d” just because we are annoyed with the supreme court) and off we went. the fireworks were lovely. of course, BC was fine with them, despite how close they seemed and how boomingly loud they were, until she heard this little boy behind me whimpering and crying through the whole thing. i think there is an unspoken rule in the world of preschoolers – if one of your comrades is in pain, then you must share the pain and cry, too. while she didn't cry, she was scared and after awhile, she buried her painted face into my neck.

and it took literally 30 minutes to get out of the dinky little high school parking lot. no one moved, despite the fact that i saw lots of glowing lights motioning people to go. what was up with the fairfax county cops who were working that night? i'm glad i don't pay their salaries or else i would probably be sending a nasty-gram out. and i have major, major respect for cops, so you know i must be pissed to even think that.

wah wah wah. i am glad that july 4th is over. i love patriotism, but let's get back to normalcy already.

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