When I was little, I used to love the holidays.
Well, most of the holidays.

Halloween, hands down, was my favorite.
No… nonononono, it wasn’t because of the candy, but because I felt that I could actually be myself.  I was always the oddball, of course.  Never fit in.   Halloween was empowering.

My second favorite was probably the 4th of July.
Not what it stood for, but for the prep work involved.   Dad usually seemed like he was in a good mood.   We’d run down to Kentucky for a day just for fun and buy fireworks that were illegal in Indiana.

The Mexican families on the street would bring in a bunch of stuff from south of the boarder and we would light up the night sky.   My favorites where roman candles, really tall fountains, and sky flowers.  The bigger the better.
(–  When we got a bit older, maybe in the early teens, dad stopped doing all that.   I attempted to carry on, but it wasn’t the same.   I didn’t have the resources and I felt like I was upsetting him just by holding a sparkler.)

Anyways..  When I moved to Florida, I remember that was sticking point for me.  Jason and his family never really had the pseudo holidays that I did.    My first year there, I stole a couple of overpriced pumpkins from an unguarded church’s pumpkin patch and attempted to demonstrate pumpkin carving.
—  The thin-skinned Floridians couldn’t get over the slimy-slick seed infested insides.

For the 4th of July, I bought fireworks.
—  That didn’t last long.   Legal fireworks in Florida are an embarrassment and way expensive.   Yeah, I understand that they’re in a city and people are stupid with fire.   Entire neighborhoods could go down in flames.   Yeah, I get it.    Still, it’s disappointing.

So, I thought that one day I’d have a little one to share the holidays with.   You know, capture the excitement and all that other Hallmark card stuff.  I could be the Wicked Witch to my daughter’s Dorothy.   I could see my son’s wide eyes reflect the multi-colored boom in the sky.

And, maybe, maybe, Jason could get an idea of what he missed out on when he was growing up.  Maybe he would feed off his child’s energy and it would spark a passion for him.

But, no.

Today is just another day.

In retrospect, it’s really kind of silly isn’t it?    Fireworks is nearly literally burning money for a bit of smoke and three seconds of starburst.  Halloween is little more than a commercialized gateway for Christmas…. a money-grabbing speedbump.

Just another day.
Just another day.
Just another day.