Independence Day

On the Forth of July, in addition to an afternoon surprise visit from David Spiegel, my parents, Autumn, Benson and I rolled down Revere Street to watch the Boston Pops Fireworks Spectacular (what a name!). We found a little piece of grass along the Charles River and listened to the concert on the radio while we watched the synchronized spectacular.

It was really beautiful and we found primo seats, despite not having to tailgate at 4 am. The show was amazing and my dad took some great pictures (see above). Afterwards my dad rolled me up Beacon Hill (it's about a 25° grade) with Autumn and my Mom helping by pushing his back. I wish I had a picture of that!

It was nice to go out on the Fourth of July. This year was the first year in several that I can remember actually going out to see fireworks. In past years I was either moving or at somebody's house party, but not on the lawn watching fireworks.

One year in San Diego, Autumn and I were unloading my car and bringing the various items that cars tend collect back to my apartment: bike, groceries, dry cleaning. We got into the elevator with very full hands to start the journey up 2 flights to my home. As the door closed, it bumped Autumn's hand, already turning red from carrying heavy dry cleaning hangars, and knocked my apartment keys out of her grip. In slow motion the keys fell to the ground, balanced in the gap between the elevator and the floor, then fell through into the elevator shaft.

Appropriately armed with wire hangars, along with a very inebriated army cadet (San Diego remember), we fished the keys off the elevator shaft floor and saved the day. The cadet was so excited he yelled, "Let's go Celebrate! Mother F*#ker," ran out the door and Autumn and I could hear fireworks chasing his path.