It was the 4^th of July, the 185th day of the year, just about the middle of the year. Actually, 2.5 days ago was the middle of the year. My mom usually does something special for middle of the year/our nation’s birthday/wiener and hamburger day. This year she decided to host a cookout in our house. She invited the whole family on both sides of the track. My grandma, from my father’s side of the family, that lives in Queens, and my grandpa, from my mom’s side, that lives in a nice old people’s home (sorry correction - Senior Retirement Community or like we call it sometimes a REC . . . Retirement of the Elderly Community) not too far from our house.

“Robert, take your filthy, arthritic hands off me right this minute or I’ll give you a fat lip!” grandma would say to grandpa.                                                 

“I love it when you talk dirty to me Erika!” Grandpa loved messing with my dad’s mom.

            Mom also invited dad’s cousin that lives in New York City. We don’t know too much about him or saw him that often. We do know that he travels a lot for his job and most of the times didn’t come over for the family stuff. My dad was an only child and his father was also, so we don’t have many cousins on his side of the family. But my grandma on my dad’s side had a sister and she had one child. This was Uncle Joey. Dad says that him and Uncle Joey grow up together in a neighborhood in Queens and got into some trouble in those days. Dad told us once a  story of the two of them being bored on a Sunday afternoon and they sneaked into a movie theater. The movie houses in those days only had one theatre. The boys filled their pockets with pepper, went over to the big fans they had in the back and threw the pepper into the blades. Then they would run outside the theatre to watch all the people hysterically running out cough and whizzing. Oh what kids will do for a laugh in ancient times!  Anyhow, I really never understood why dad and Uncle Joey didn’t see each other more often. It would be like if I grew up and never saw Johnny again. I couldn’t imagine.

But Uncle Joey always had an excuse for not coming to our house. Although most of the times he would have to travel for business, sometimes he would travel for pleasure, so he really was never around. This year’s excuse was a 2 year pre-arranged vacation to the Andes Mountains in Nepal. Can you imagine that? Choosing a spiritual trip to the highest most majestic place on earth, instead of coming to our house for a 4^th of July BBQ all you can eat, all you can drink, all you can take of family quarreling, all you can stand  of the boring annoying conversation until you can stand it no more family get together? Inexcusable!  

My mom also invited her brother, Bobby, that lives in Seattle. We’re not sure if he lives in Seattle because he likes the wet weather, or he just doesn’t want to be around family.  He doesn’t visit very often, so mom wanted to see if they could fly over for a week or so. But like always, he had a lame excuse. Having to finish painting your driveway before rainy season is weak sauce. It’s always rainy season in Seattle. But mom and dad had a real good friend that lives in North Carolina, Margaret. She went to the same school as they did, and she was like family. I don’t have one, but if I were to have a fairy god-mother, she would be it. She has an old then dirt mother, older then grandma and grandpa, a wonderful little boy Jack and an adorable mutt, Butchy. Her mom picked him from the Humane Society a few years ago and called her Cinderella.

“Mom, this dog is not a girl, LOOK!  It’s a boy!” said Margaret to her mom.

 “Well, I’ll be darn, your right.”  So they changed his name to Butcherella, nicknamed Butchy. He was big, sweet and friendly… and Prissy hated him.

 “Aaaaaaaggggghhhhh, ruff, ruff, aaaaaaagggggghhhh,” Prissy would say unwelcoming Butchy.  Then Prissy would stayed by dad all day, thinking that Butchy would take her man away or something. I’m guessing Prissy is also confused about whether Butchy is a girl or a boy. 

            I finally got my friend Sam back also. She was gone from the beginning of the summer and returned home just the other day. She usually goes visits her grandmother, aunts, uncles and cousins in Florida. Her mother’s brother works for the Mickey Machine in Orlando, so they have free passes for friends and family. It was great just to catch up with her. She told me about her insufferable trip to Disney World and how her little cousin wanted to ride ‘It’s a Small World’ with her again, and again, and again.    

     “Did you know that ‘It’s a Small World,’one of the most popular rides in Disney World, was actually on display in the 1964 New York World’s Fair?” Ian said as a matter of a fact, eavesdropping on our conversation.

  “No, I didn’t know that,” Sam said very interested.

  “Yes, they wanted Disney to create a ride that represents world unity.”            

 “Fascinating,” Sam said.                                                                              

       “And then,” he continued, “not only did they ask Disney and his long time war buddies and  song writers, Robert and Richard Sherman, to come up with a tune that represented international unity but that would also stick in your head again and again and again until you couldn’t take it anymore and you ran out of the ride screaming and yelling!”                                                                 

     “Wow, I can believe it,” Sam said with stars in her eyes, “that’s exactly how I felt on the ride. That’s amazing how you know how I feel.”

     Yuk! Actually Sam, that’s how everyone feels when they go on that ride!                       

     “Yes, yes, and till this day, the song and lyrics have never been copyrighted, it still remains a ‘gift to children of the world.’”                                                    

     “Oh, that’s so beautiful,” Sam said almost in tears.

     Double yuk!                          

     “If I would have known the history of the ride, I think I would have enjoyed it more. You’re so knowledgeable.”                                                                                                  

     “Knowledge is a powerful thing, my dear, especially when it is used correctly.”                                                                                                                 

     “Yessssss,” she said with a sultry sound in her voice.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

     Sam always had a thing for Ian and she was just his type. Samantha is tall, thin, has snowy white skin, with strawberry blonde, shoulder length, spiky hair, and is equipped with complementary beautiful green eyes.  She lives in a big house with her mom and her 8-10 sisters and brothers (sorry don’t know the exact number I lost track several years ago). But one thing that Sam learned from having so many siblings is how to take old hand me downs and make them into fashionable attire. I guess it helped that she had a knack for fashion. She read a lot of fashion magazines and just always knew what was in style.  She could take an old get up, add some accessories from a thrift shop and make it look like a WOW outfit. I don’t ever remember Sam wearing the same outfit twice. She’s a great gal pal to have around. I truly don’t understand why Ian doesn’t pay more attention to her, she likes him so much, I could tell.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

My mom also invited all my babysitting family clientele, and to give the kids something to do she went ahead and brought a slip and slide for them. She should of just gone ahead and rented a pony, a bounce house and a clown to entertain them. Not only would the little kids have enjoyed it, but the teens would have had a blast in the bouncy house and the adults would of loved making fun of the poor clown that had to work during a holiday.

The Bells showed up all dressed up in red, white and blue. ALL OF THEM, including the dog! “Hiiiiiiiiiiiii everyone!” Mrs. Bells shrieked. Mrs. Bells was great with the sweet bakery stuff, so she brought a cake that looked like an American flag. It had little flags all around it and sparkling candles that lasted hours. It was a sight to see. The kids put on their bathing suits and came to the slip and slide compliments of my mom.              

“Erick, Kayleen, no, no the slip and slide is not for dogs!” I screamed at them. “Oh poor KC.”

 Billy and Alexis then showed up unexpectedly. Their dad said he had an emergency to take care of. Don’t know what a dentist would have as an emergency on a holiday, but whatever, like mom said, “The more the merrier.” And of course, Johnny was there. His parents showed up for a little bit then left. They sat around and talked to mom and dad. Not much to say, we really don’t know them very well.

Even Captain Hetherington made it for our little soiree. His daughter dropped him off this morning dressed partially in his military outfit. She said he insisted to be probably dress for the b-day of our country. He brought along Linus, the devilish spawned cat. He stood in a corner and hissed at everyone that would pass by. Demon animal.

So, it was time to chow down. Dad was busy all afternoon on the grill and mom was making sure everyone had a drink with a little umbrella in their hands and that all her guests were happy. My mom had prepared a large picnic table outside in the back yard.

So, here we all are: the Bells in one side with Kayleen crying because she didn’t want mustard on her hotdog; Alexis and Billy fighting because Billy took a drink from Alexis’ cup then backwashed; Margaret’s mom, April, had one too many glasses of Peach Schnapps punch; Grandpa was hysterical because it was way past his dinner time and wanted to know why there was no french fries; KC was snatching everything he could find on the floor; Prissy was on  grandpa’s lap trying to grab some grub; Butchy was under the table hurling a pieces of hot sausage he stole from the grill earlier in the day; dad was trying to divided the burnt burgers and the almost mooing burgers; mom was running around the table handing out napkins and drinks, and in the mist of all this confusion Johnny yelled out, “Okay, everyone! Pix time! Look over here and say, ’Blaaaahhhh!’”                                                                                                                           

“Blaaaaaaahhhhhh!” everyone said. Click!

And just like that, a memory was made.