Kensington fireworks

Well, while I was on the phone with you Ma, Tommy was trying to get the wagoneer started. It didn't. So we unpacked the waggie and got in Joe instead. We decided to make the trek to Kensington anyhow cause we'd pretty much done nothing important all day and wanted to attempt to celebrate the fourth. Cause we're so patriotic. So we motored off and got within a mile of Kensington, where we realized that there wasn't a chance in hell we were going to gain entrance to the park. Traffic was backed up past Kent Lake Road. So we made an executive decision to get off and follow some of the other sad sacks who made their fourth plans late into the night, as had we. We found a stellar spot off of the highway where we were sure we'd be able to see the fireworks over the trees. And then the show began. All we could do was laugh hysterically because although we could theoretically SEE the fireworks, they were hidden behind a large stand of pine trees. From our vantage point the trees were set on fire and put out every few seconds. It's one of the more idiotic things Tom and I have done in our time together. We stayed for the whole show, waiting patiently for the grand finale which we were CERTAIN we would be able to see, there was no way those explosives wouldn't be grand and tall. We were wrong. In the end. we had a great time anyway, as is our nature... just cause we're a bit off in the head.

I too miss Dad's display. Nothing, not even the hidden fireworks put on by Livingston county parks and rec, beats an evening being eaten alive by Michigan mosquitoes while fearing for my father's digits. We always had a good time, didn't we? I've never been in a parade, but those fourth of july parties with George and grandpa were always special. And then, when Pappy had passed, the day was even more special because Jim and Juana could be a part of our fun. I know this is a hard time of the year for you ma, just remember that there are still tons of good times to be had and that Jim and Grandpa are hanging out somewhere, probably at opposite ends of wherever they are, talking about the great parties the Shellhaas' throw. It's always going to be different than it was, but at least "the whistler" and "miss nebraska" are no longer willing parts of our vocabulary. Hey, I might even try to rustle up some cheap ass sparklers tomorrow and spin around and around in the yard and think about driving around in our pajamas late at night on the fourth looking for any leftover fireworks that Plymouth might have to offer. In the pinto. Oh, the memories.... do you remember that?

I miss you guys a lot. I wish we could get up there more often but in order to keep a roof over our heads, we must work. There is little we can do about that unfortunately. We'll have to make new memories when we can and think fondly of the ones we have trapped in our melons and try not to let those memories make us sad. They're happy times! Not supposed to make us sad! Good times should never make us sad!!!! End sermon now. XXXXOOOOO