Sunday, July 1, 2012
It was an early fourth celebration in somerville, meaning fireworks, large crowds of teenagers eyeing each other, flashing fiberoptic Mohawks, glow bracelets, and fried food. There was music piped in, from what I heard, pandora was set to a patriotic marching band channel. People were set up in lane ways, sidewalks in their plastic lawn chairs. The streets were blocked off and we stood in a 7-11 parking lot with the rest of the neighborhood, necks tilted catching grand finale shrapnel falling like snow over the crowd filled streets. At the end, the narrator pledged alleigence, and informed all the seniors and veterans to stay seated and mobility was on the way.