Art copyright Norman Rockwell |
In my head, July 4th always looks like a classic Americana painting.
There are horse-drawn carriages and surreys with
fringe, men in straw boaters riding impossible bicycles, and women in high
button shoes carrying parasols.
There are girls with bows in their hair
waving pinwheels, and boys in short pants pushing hoops along the street with
sticks.
And they all live in a pretty town full of stately homes sporting swags and
buntings and poles with flags, and windowboxes overflowing with red, white, and
blue petunias.
There's a town green, too (of course). With a white bandstand (is there any other?). And a barbershop quartet sings there today, serenading the townsfolk who are gathered
for an ice cream social. And the mayor makes a speech first. He's the one with a
mustache so big that it's the only thing that moves when he talks, and his vest
with its watch chain stretches taut across his big stomach.
And at some point a band will play a march and
hotdogs will be served, flags will be saluted and allegiances will be pledged. And at dusk the kids will wave sparklers and watch the
sky for fireworks.
Yep. That's my version of the 4th of July.
Something right out of Disney's Main Street USA, apparently! :)
Whatever your version of the 4th is, have a
safe one, my friends.
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