We were just north of Breckenridge, Minnesota, not far beyond
the Highway 210 junction (which takes you east to Fergus Falls) and heading
home up Highway 75 toward Abercrombie, North Dakota. It was sometime in the
mid-to-late ‘80s, and we were driving back at about 10pm on a hot and humid
summer night after attending a Sunday evening dance at the Eagles Club in the
small Minnesota town of approximately 4,000.
I was probably in my mid to later 20’s at the time, and had
tagged along with my uncle Donald (my mom’s brother), who loved to go to
various dances around that part of the country and pretty much had an almost
nightly routine of various places he could go to listen to music and “dance
with the widows.” It probably sounds weird, but I loved going with him to those
things and just sitting back and watching all the local color. I like kibitzing
with the older folks too…and they always seemed to get a kick out of chatting
with the kid from Los Angeles.
It was just a couple of days before the Fourth of July, and
we were driving directly into what appeared to be a hellacious electrical storm
directly to the north. My uncle had country music playing as we chatted, and I
remember commenting that I never recalled seeing a thunder storm that looked
quite that ominous. I distinctly recall him replying that I’d probably also
never been in a situation where I was driving directly into such a storm…at
least voluntarily.
We were talking about various things when the conversation turned
to the looming Fourth of July holiday and the many family celebrations at his kids (my first cousins)
lake places. My cousin Pam would undoubtedly have a BBQ at her place on Pelican
Lake, and her brother Brent would surely put on an elaborate show at his
beautiful lake place on Lake Lizzie. My uncle started talking about how much he
loved the Fourth, and before long he started romanticizing about all the
reasons he loved the Fall.
I remember thinking it seemed like an odd segue. We’d just
been looking forward to Independence Day and all of the sudden he jumped ahead
to thoughts of basement church suppers, threshing festivals, changing leaves
and carving pumpkins. As a product of Southern California the Fourth-of-July
seemed like early summer to me, and I couldn’t understand how he made the
transition to Fall…which at that point in my life still seemed like light-years
away.
When I inquired why he was already talking about the Fall, I
remember him saying that he’s always thought of the Fourth of July as kind of
the gateway to Autumn. That sounded insane to me at the time…but he went on to
explain that after the Fourth, the days are rapidly getting shorter, the church
suppers start in earnest, he’d be closing down his Crane Lake cabin a month
later around Labor Day and it just wouldn’t be long before the cooler
temperatures arrived. He basically said that once the Fireworks are over…it won’t
be long before we’re decking the halls. He told me when I got older I’d realize
that…and boy…my uncle could have been a profit.
I’m 52 now, and the rapidity with which time flies by really
is nuts. With every passing year, the craziness somehow conspires with an
out-of-control work pace and my growing number of years to create a condition
where the months feel like weeks and the weeks pass like days.
When I was a kid storming out the doors of my elementary
school on the first day of summer, those three glorious months seemed like a
literal lifetime. Now…I no sooner get the patio furniture out, when it seems
like I’m pulling up the garden and setting up the decorations for Halloween.
What’s the point of all this…not sure really. Today is the
Fourth of July…and once again it snuck up on me and I’m haunted by the fact
that I should have planned better how we’d spend it. Time is so precious, and
before we know it, summer will be winding down and the back-to-school sales
will be in full swing. However you spend the long weekend, make the most of it
doing the things that matter the most with the people you care about. Put down
the smart phone, stay off email, enjoy some grilled sweet corn, have a glass of
lemonade, hold a march to a sparkler and do all you can to take in this wondrous
holiday. Most of all, exhale long enough to fully appreciate the precious gift
of time. Whether you realize it or not... it’s ticking by way too fast.
Hurrah for the Fourth of July!
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