One of the slightly weird things about this town is that many people our age have lived here their entire lives. Oh, maybe they went a couple of hours down the freeway in this or that direction during their college years, but they came right back. The result of this hometownness is that everyone seems to be saturated with friends they've known since middle school. Tight, tight circles. I admire it, envy it in a way. If it weren't for Facebook, I wouldn't know where to find a single soul from middle school. Or high school, for that matter. Except for my brother. I always kind of assume that everybody spreads out. But I guess spreaders are more the exception than the rule. In any case, Chad and I have managed to insinuate ourselves into some groups, by virtue of the fact that I teach a bunch of their kids, and he has good fake-leg stories to tell. We've also joined the not-so-tight circles of some other foreigners, from distant lands like San Francisco. Today, we were thrilled to spend the holiday with a family who landed here four years ago, from some faraway place called Los Angeles. Our girls are friends, so that breaks the ice automatically. A great time was had by all.We did the full-on 4th, with sparklers and everything! Let me tell you, though, these are no longer the sparklers of yesteryear. They burn out before you can say, "Ouch! I just burned myself!", and you can't write your name in the air with the glowing stick. There's no glowing. The kids liked them, though.
What did glow were those tube things with some toxic liquid inside (always a hit). Clara and her friend were more fascinated by the glow sticks than by the fireworks.
The city's fireworks extravaganza was a drastically shorter, less extravagant version of its previous, fat-budget self, but there was plenty of ooooing and aaahing nonetheless. And Trevor, who spent the whole show lying on the grass with his fingers in his ears, hopes the budget won't increase next year.
