Independence Day

It's been quite a weekend. I'll have to break this one up into 3 posts to give each story a bit of justice.



This year marked the first July 4th that I have actively done something in many, many years. It was also the first 'holiday' I've spent with My Man. He too appears to live by my mantra - go big or go home.

My Man has been talking all week about doing something for the 4th of July, whether we go watch fireworks or he sets them off, somehow, someway, we would be watching the night sky. I get a call from My Man Thursday afternoon stating that he has purchased approximately $80 in fireworks. Goodness gracious - Do you know what I can do with $80? That's a lot of groceries and/or gas. He was kind enough to run some errands for me on Friday (cause he's the shiz-nit) so I chilled and basically slept all day. Upon his arrival home, he returned with - what's this - MORE fireworks?! The ones he picked up were aptly called Barely Legal (I have a Hustler magazine by the same name). They were these big ass canister things that came 24 to a case. We had 2 cases, two firework box things and my dear picked me up some ginormous sparklers (you can't do the 4th without sparklers). Looks like we'll be pissing the neighbors off this year.

I woke My Man up around 8:30pm (we're some sleepy people), just as it was getting dark, so he could start doing whatever he needed to do to get set up. Around 9pm I heard booming outside. My Man had started. Armed with my cigarettes, a Coke and my camera, I headed on out and plopped myself in the bed of his massive pick up truck.

As mentioned in previous posts, I live in the barrio and am surrounded by Spanish people. The Mexicans across the street, 3 doors down, came outside to watch our display. No lie - they sat in the back of a low rider truck, a big ass 'fruit picking' pick up truck (you know what I mean, Mexicans always have big, macked out trucks) and blasted Spanish music. One of them yelled, "Cinco de Mayo!" Umm, it's our Independence day, buddy, not yours. It's Cuatro de Julio, essays (I know that's misspelled but I have no idea how to spell anything in Spanish Ebonics). The fireworks worked like this: My Man would line up about 4 of them, then he would cautiously go from tube to tube lighting each one, then BOOM! The fireworks go up in the air, make an absolutely gorgeous display, and then all you'd hear was the debris falling all around. It was the craziest thing - it sounded almost like a hard rain coming down from the heavens. All the time I kept feeling what I thought was falling debris burning me. As it turns out it was not debris, but mosquitoes. Lots of them. I started scratching myself all over - once you start you can't stop. It was like tripping on acid and thinking you had bugs crawling all over you. It was horrific.

NOTE TO SELF - Buy some OFF! or something. Those mosquitoes really like my sweetness.

During this time, My Man somehow befriended J.R. who lives across the street (I'm sure J.R. stands for something like Jose Ricardo or Jorge Reynaldo). J.R. came over to our yard and brought My Man a Corona cerveza. All I could think was this was a recipe for disaster - an alcohol induced man setting off fireworks. I startled J.R. a bit when he came by - he had no idea I was chillin' in the back of the truck like the Mexicanos across the street. Shocked, J.R saw me and said, "Hello Miss Lady." Hehehe. My Man continued to converse with J.R. for the rest of the evening. At some point, a man I will call Fat Richard, came outside and asked if he needed to move his car due to all the falling debris. My Man said it was alright, his massive new truck didn't have any debris and Fat Richard's car was about 50 feet away from My Man's new ride. Still pissy, Fat Richard went over to J.R. and started bitching about the fireworks in Espanol. After the mild confrontation, our new hermano, J.R. came over and talked to My Man about what a dick Fat Richard is. Apparently one day Fat Richard came over to J.R.'s house to raise hell about a broken fence in the backyard and the only person home was Senora J.R.. Fat Richard reamed and cursed her out. The poor lady was home alone and petrified. Due to this incident J.R. has been looking for any reason to fuck with Fat Richard. J.R. told My Man if Fat Richard gives him any problems, to come get him. By the end of the night, we were called family and I was told if I was ever home alone and got scared, intimidated or anything, to go across the street to mi extended famila and they will take care of me.

I've lived in my house for over 5 years now and have never met anyone who lives on my street with the exception of the poor white girl next door who is in the same situation I was in - alone and unable to upkeep and maintain a house by herself. In one night, we made both friends and enemies.