i have always regarded the fourth of july as a day to 1. listen to Better Than Ezra, and 2. partake in exactly the activity you love most. and do nothing else.
years past, that meant skating in 100 degree heat at FDR skatepark- drinking pbr, grilling, sweating, and laughing with 50 or so of your closest friends. ooh, this was our tradition. i would plan this day for weeks just to be sure it executed flawlessly. it always did. and i have fond memories and reverent regard for all our days spent on that hallowed ground beneath i-95. photos from that day would all end up in transworld or thrasher... but we'd try to outdo it all the following year.
college days, i was surfing. all day. out on the water in our bikinis, and downtown beach haven scantily clad and barefoot. salt in our hair, sand on our feet, and the sun on our skin. i can hear us laughing like it was all just 5 minutes ago. i can see our faces and feel sex wax underneath my fingernails. we were the "it" crowd. if you weren't partying with us... um... who are you? a varied crowd of all the year round locals, and a select sampling of the summer crowd- all from various towns of the region who wouldn't otherwise be aquainted- we were tan, we were gorgeous, our parents were rich, we were surfers, we were lifeguards, we were young, and we were on speed dial.
2004-2011 are a blur for me. i haven't been back to beach haven or the skatepark since. and i don't think i want to. those days are better left untouched and taken for what they were at the time.
from now on, independence day is running day. i can't think of a better way for one to assert ones freedom. by myself. silence. on the road. nothing pleases me more. my how times change. ;-)
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