So what. Big deal, right?
It wasn't a big deal when the thunder forced us out of the pool yesterday. Nor was it a big deal when the rain forced our grill out to be moved to the porch. Nor was it a big deal when the parade still went on with some drizzles coming down (the people handing out water and paper fans were not so popular this year, bless their hearts). None of this seemed to bother any of the good citizens of Newnan, Georgia because as soon as the 6 pm parade ended everyone packed their blanketschairsfoodcameras and headed on over to Drake Stadium for some fireworks fun. With the clouds of darkness looming close behind, everyone was thinking the same things..."Will the fireworks be cancelled? Will they be rescheduled? Is it going to rain?"
Lemme answers those questions for y'all real fast: No. No. YES. (all caps lock is needed to showcase just how much YES is needed to accurately answer that question).
The title of the post should be, "The Show Must Go On," because LAWD KNOWS the Rotary Club must have chanted that all day and all night yesterday. Come hell or high water, that firework show was happening and the people of Newnan were going to enjoy it. When there are clouds as black as my blackest black mascara and thunder and lightning louder/brighter than a fireworks show, you know that a storm is coming. You just know. You don't have to be taught that in school, you don't have to find a meteorologist hanging around and ask him. You just know these things. When you know these things, you decide to forego all the thank you's and the kiddos saying Pledge of Allegiance and playing a recording of hometown boy Alan singing for us and start the fireworks early in order to avoid a wet, chaotic, hysterical (and funny) mess of a Fourth of July.
Someone in charge did not know these things and so they did thank everyone and their mothers, they did pull kids onstage to introduce themselves one at a time to say the pledge, they did play Alan Jackson's recording, and they did make us countdown not once, but twice to get the fireworks started. Here is a summation of the rest of the night:
1 minute into the show: Thunder is now louder than firework's booms.
2 minutes into the show: Lightning is now brighter than the fireworks in the sky.
2.5 minutes into the show: Lightning strike hits a firework mid air.
3 minutes into the show: Torrential downpour begins. Drake stadium empties faster than a crack house during a police raid.
4-15 minutes into the show: Monsoon continues. Fleeing people continue. FIREWORKS CONTINUE.
Yes, as we are wading through the river formally known as Newnan High School, dodging cars and other people, trying to carry the now 50 lb. sopping wet quilts we had entertainment! The fireworks kept going! Booms all around! Lightning and fireworks lit our way through the river! The show must go on!
30 minutes and some dry clothes later, we sat around laughing about what a fabulous Fourth weekend we had (no sarcasm here, y'all). I got to spend the weekend celebrating birthdays (Americuh and Uncle John), eating lotsa grilled food, swimming, playing Disney games, and having fun all with my family and my Freddiefriend. (BTW, if you don't have a Freddiefriend you are seriously living a boring, sad life because Freddiefriend not only makes everything more fun and enjoyable, but he also carries things, goes to the grocery store, grills pizza for us, takes napsies, and helps assemble big important things like water filters and grills.) (Do I sound like I'm trying to sell him? Because this is not an infomercialblog and I'm not. I kinda sorta want to keepsies him.) (But seriously, go find yourself one.)
I don't think running in traffic on LaGrange St. would have been nearly as fun if I hadn't had the fireworks in the background to remind me just how special Independence Day really is. Betcha didn't have that much fun on July 4th, 1776 huh, Thomas Jefferson? Also, betcha didn't have that much fun during the flood huh, Noah?