DOWN HOME: Just buggin’ you: count blessings_63003

Posted: 6/27/03

DOWN HOME:
Just buggin' you: count blessings

Do you ever wonder if bugs think Independence Day is a holiday too?

The U.S. Census Bureau reports that 66 million Americans participated in a “backyard barbecue” last year. (Of course, many Texans would not call it a “barbecue” unless it involved slathering vast quantities of meat with spicy sauce, but we'll allow the Census people, probably Yankees for the most part, a generous understanding of the term.) “It's probably safe to assume a large number of these events took place on the Fourth” of July, the Census Bureau interpreted.

Americans these days articulate all kinds of ideas, beliefs, creeds and suppositions. But it seems we can agree on one thing: When we have a holiday, we eat. And since much of America is frozen over by Thanksgiving and Christmas, the Census Bureau's estimation that the Fourth of July is the No. 1 “backyard barbecue” day of the year probably is correct.

Which brings me back to bugs. While we're out eating hamburgers or grilled chicken or smoked brisket, mosquitoes and chiggers and biting flies are eating us. So, don't you supposed they're in their little bug-houses, marking off the days on their little bug-calendars, licking their little bug-lips in anticipation of chewing on your ankles this Friday evening?

Bugs may join us in feasting, but they obviously can't appreciate the most unique sensory expression of this American holiday. That would be the ceremonial watching of fireworks. Maybe because I eat 365 days a year and watch fireworks only one day a year, I like fireworks best.

Last year, our family placed our lawn chairs on one of the highest knobs in southern Denton County, near our local fireworks. Their wicks must've been wet, because we waited forever. But in the meantime, we looked east toward The Colony and Plano, southeast and south toward Richardson, Carrollton, Dallas and Coppell, and southwest toward Grapevine, Colleyville, Bedford and Fort Worth. By the time the mosquitoes had drained us of about a quart of blood apiece, we'd seen glimpses of at least 13 fireworks shows across the horizon.

All the while, I thought about Popo, my maternal grandfather. He loved the Fourth of July, and he indulged me in a multitude of flying, sparkling and exploding fireworks. He would've loved sitting on a hillside and watching 13 celebrations of our nation's freedom.

Maybe because we've had a war this year and we've thought and talked more about liberty and our blessings as a nation, I've been thinking we should combine Independence Day with Thanksgiving. We have been blessed with 227 years of freedom.

So this year, every time you watch a fireworks display explode, bite a hotdog, spit a watermelon seed or slap a mosquito, thank God for “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”