As American As...

By the time this blog posts, I will be on my way back to Colorado. Fireworks, were there not a general statewide ban, have to be the last thing anyone I know wants to see lighting up the night sky. The photos you may have seen, many of them taken by friends as they’ve fled their homes in Colorado Springs, Boulder and Ft. Collins, only give a small sense of what our beleaguered state has been facing. Never mind the bonfire aroma in the air.

Tonight, on the beautiful, verdant East Coast, I sit amidst the roar of the sold out crowd at Hadlock Field in Portland, Maine. What could be more 3^rd of July than a row of seats behind home plate, hot dogs, peanuts, cold beer and a Red Sox/Yankees farm team game between the Portland Seadogs and the Trenton Thunder? The only thing missing is apple pie. The signature Seabiscuits (a scoop of vanilla ice cream nestled between chocolate chip cookies) provide a more than worthy substitute. 

Add the fireworks at the end of the game and it’s pure joy, American style. 

We have to leave right after the game to shuffle down to Boston because of an early AM flight and will miss the post-game pyrotechnics. While I will miss the immediacy of the pop and burst of color in the sky, I'll settle for the thrill of spotting the various firework shows along Highway One on the way. My 3rd of July, celebrated on the East Coast, at a crowded minor league baseball game, couldn't be more Norman Rockwell. I wish the those who have lost so much in Colorado could feel the same about their 4th of July.