Pyrotechnics, Patriotism and Panko Flakes

Forget Mom, baseball, hot dogs and apple pie. In my book of cultural icons, the quintessence of Americana is the Fourth of July trinity made of of flags, fireworks and fried chicken (make mine with panko flakes, please!) Oh, and I’d definitely drop a dollop of potato salad on that patriotic plate, too.

Whatever decorations and cuisine are included in your family’s Independence Day traditions, I think we’d all agree that nothing says “America” like a nighttime display of fireworks – bombs bursting in air accompanied by an earthbound crowd of “oooh”s, “aaaah”s and “wow”s in all the right places.

While I’m sure I got to see the annual pyrotechnics extravaganza at the Rose Bowl at least once or twice growing up here in the Southland, I don’t remember much more than a sea of cars all trying to leave after the show. Yes, local traffic was a nightmare even in the 60s.

But raising my own kids for the past twenty some-odd years, we’ve certainly experienced our share of booms, blasts and blooms of colorful explosives. Some of our favorite displays have exploded in the rarefied air over Crowley Lake, high in the Eastern Sierras. To witness the powerful presentation of pyrotechnics against the natural alpine beauty of the surrounding mountains is breathtaking on so many levels. One year when the annual fireworks show was cancelled at the last minute, we drove even further north along Hwy 395 to watch the free annual show put on at the small airfield outside the historical town of Bridgeport.

Our most memorable family fireworks experience to date was watching fireworks burst at eye level, seen from the balcony of a house we rented one summer at the end of a dirt road, high up on the side of a cliff above the tiny Rocky Mountain hamlet of Ouray, Colorado. The house was aptly named, “Eagle’s Nest.” Truly majestic.

Closer to home, we’ve enjoyed fireworks up close and deafening many times from a blanket on the lawn directly under the explosions at Lacy Park in San Marino. But, lucky us, we live within walking distance of Crescenta Valley High School, where nearly every year since 1989 there has been a carnival and fireworks spectacle to rival any fireworks display in Southern California.

My earliest fireworks memories involved holding red-hot sparklers and lighting sidewalk-staining “snakes” that sizzle and hiss and squirm and leave a permanent black mark on any surface that you happen to light one on. Whoops, sorry neighbor.

Of course, there is a dark side to the tradition of Independence Day fireworks. Recently on the NBC News blog, for example, reporter JoNel Aleccia wrote that fireworks injuries sent more than 5,000 people to U.S. emergency departments in the 30 days surrounding the Fourth of July holiday last year. Six people died (all men, no surprise there), including a 17-year-old Arkansas boy who taped together about 300 sparklers to make a so-called “sparkler bomb.”

For some reason, the phrase, “thinning the herd” comes to mind.

When I think about all the times I held sparklers as kid, it’s more than a little sobering to realize that these curiously named “safe and sane” fireworks can burn at somewhere close to 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit. Might as well hand your grade schooler a lit welding torch. Then again, in spite of my affinity for sparklers and Black Cat firecrackers, I somehow survived my youth. Just as I did without seatbelts, bike helmets and SPF 50 sunscreen. Go figure.

Speaking of fireworks, I’d love to see a barrage of outrage ignite when Americans consider that, at the same time many of our military bases have had to cancel their traditional fireworks shows due to petulantly targeted Federal budget cuts, our ever-traveling, vacation-prone President and his family have just spent over $100 million on a week-long African tour. 

Light ‘em up, people. And happy Fourth of July! I’ll see you ‘round town.

Bombs Bursting In Airheads

Now that the smoke has cleared from the sky, the backyard BBQs have cooled and the cobs have been de-corned, what do you remember most about this past Monday’s celebration of our country’s birth? The food? The fireworks? The sales? Or simply a day off work? Personally, I won’t forget the cacophony of car alarms triggered with every loud burst from the fireworks high above CVHS. Really, people?

With each 4^th of July observance, I can’t help but be reminded of Jay Leno’s ‘Jaywalking’ segments on the Tonight Show where he interviews random people on the street about various topics. A few times over the years his interviews have posed questions to average Joes about the meaning of our nation’s 4^th of July holiday. “Why do we celebrate the holiday?” he’ll ask, or “Who was George Washington?” Or even “What does Independence Day mean?” Believe it or not, many who walk among us don’t have the slightest idea that the 4^th of July and Independence Day are one and the same. I’ve watched with my mouth agape as Leno asks his subjects what or who we declared our independence from some 235 years ago, only to get blank stares in return. At first it’s funny. Then sad. Finally, it’s frightening.

I’ve seen Leno quiz college students, recent high school grads, parents, young adults, even some people who claim to be public school teachers. Granted, only the most dense and clueless make the show, but the fact that our society seems to be turning out increasing numbers of historically illiterate mouth-breathers is cause for alarm.

The truly despicable thing (in my opinion, at least) is that – as a direct and purposeful result of our left-leaning, multicultural-focused education system – more American students today could likely tell you what Cinco de Mayo is all about then could explain the importance of the Fourth of July. What have we done?

We’ve created a culture that is increasingly blasé and in many cases, apologetically embarrassed about the bright, shining uniqueness of this exceptional country. Even our current President, when asked if he believed in American exceptionalism said yes, he does, “… just as I suspect that the Brits believe in British exceptionalism and the Greeks believe in Greek exceptionalism …” In other words, America is no big deal. Ho hum. When’s my next tee time?

What can we do to reverse this dangerously deliberate dumbing down of our citizenry? I’m so glad you asked.

One of the wisest men alive today, Dennis Prager, is a Southern California resident, prolific author and talk show host with an impressive national radio audience (heard in my media market on KRLA 870AM ). This past week, Prager introduced what may turn out to be a the easiest, most effective way to teach the next generation some of the most important aspects of America’s founding. After years of stressing the importance of ritual and tradition not only in family life, but in the life of our country, Prager has created what he calls a 4^th of July Declaration.

This important new ceremony was patterned after the world’s best known commemoration of a historical event– the Jewish Passover meal, which has been instrumental in keeping alive the memory of the Israelites’ exodus from Egypt for over 3000 years. To participate (and appreciate!) this ceremony, one doesn’t have to be Jewish, Christian or any faith at all. You just have to be an American willing to dedicate less than ten minutes of your holiday to the cause of American community.

Predictably, the ceremony (and its author, for that matter) has been blasted by the left as trite, jingoistic, unnecessary, childish, corny and much worse. Then again, consider the source. A unhappier, more bitter and antagonistic lot has never has so much to say nor so many ways to say it than the left has in today’s digitally supported iComplain culture. 

And yet, the need for just such a ritualistic remembrance is great. As Prager states on his Prager University web site,  “As Americans … we need to rediscover the meaning of our country’s creation. And we need to do it every year. That is the reason for ritual – to enable us to remember. Without ritual, memory fades. And without memory, life – whether of the individual or of a nation – loses meaning.” Amen, sir.

Independence Day 2011 is already history. But I urge you to take a look at what Mr. Prager has created and see if it wouldn’t make next year’s holiday more meaningful, more memorable, and most importantly – more significant than any your family has experienced to date.

I’ll see you ‘round town.

Note: This is a slightly modified version of my column first published yesterday, 7.7.11 in the Crescenta Valley Weekly newspaper (cvweekly.com).

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