Once again it is the time of the year for real patriots to get dirty. Time for the smell of gunpowder to impregnate my cloths with that all too familiar smell of brimstone. It’s time to get up early; go to bed late and BBQ every night for a week. It’s time for my favorite holiday.
According to Wikipedia:
In 1777, thirteen guns were fired, once at morning and again as evening fell, on July 4 in Bristol, Rhode Island. Philadelphia celebrated the first anniversary in a manner a modern American would find quite familiar: an official dinner for the Continental Congress, toasts, 13-gun salutes, speeches, prayers, music, parades, troop reviews, and fireworks. Ships were decked with red, white, and blue bunting.
In 1778, General George Washington marked Independence Day with a double ration of rum for his soldiers and an artillery salute. Across the Atlantic Ocean, ambassadors John Adams and Benjamin Franklin held a dinner for their fellow Americans in Paris, France.
In 1779, July 4 fell on a Sunday. The holiday was celebrated on Monday, July 5.
In 1781, the Massachusetts General Court became the first state legislature to recognize Independence Day as a state celebration.
In 1783, Moravians in Salem, North Carolina, held the first celebration of Independence Day in the country with a challenging music program assembled by Johann Friedrich Peter. This work was titled “The Psalm of Joy”.
In 1791 was the first recorded use of the name “Independence Day”.
In 1870, the U.S. Congress made Independence Day an unpaid holiday for federal employees.
Fireworks, guns, and a double ration of rum, that’s what Independence Day is all about!
I may not be able to update this blog for a number of days. I work (Volunteer) with a small pyro company that does professional shows here in Northern Colorado. This is my first year as Safety Tsar (Nazi), so I have to put in an extra special effort to emulate how an adult behaves around firworks.
So In keeping with the traditions of the holiday, particularly with George in mind, I will be quite busy. When I am not building mortar racks, loading guns, matching shells, or wiring the firing panel, I will be receiving my double ration of rum. With a digital camera at my side while wearing my big floppy hat I will try to keep a record of the weekend. When all is said and done I will come back and update my blog while nursing a hangover and smelling of brimstone and rum.
If I ever open a bar it will be called Brimstone and Rum.
It’s a tough job but someone has to do it. Selfless of me I know, but the un-washed masses deserve a good show and I am willing to sacrifice my personal comfort for their pleasure.