Friday
The 4th of July is one holiday that is steeped in tradition in my family. It brings me visions of parades and the assorted folks of the Wootton brood sitting around munching on shelled creatures. There’s Pop Pop busily cleaning crabs for Grandmom. Brother Jim is anxiously piling up his crabmeat for a big sandwich at the end. When do we leave for the fireworks?
This year we didn’t stray too far from the path. The wife and I skipped out on the parade, more or less. We didn’t actually witness it first hand. However, we were part of it for a short time at the end, also known as “why is everyone going so damn slow”.
We had new visitors in the form of my brother and his children. The long trip from Idaho had landed them in the middle of a holiday weekend. It was time to do what good Baltimoreans do. We eat crabs.
Crabs are one of those foods that add the cleaning of the carcass to the eating ritual. As a Baltimore native, I don’t even notice or acknowledge this fact. It’s just what you do. The eyes of my brother’s children remind me that this even-headed approach to butchery isn’t universal.
Excuse me. You rip what open? What is the heck is that?
Both children were a little freaked out about the whole process. It probably didn’t help that their father offered to eat an eyeball if they would take the smallest of tastes.
The uniqueness of our meal settled in when I offered to play ball with my nephew after dinner. He ran out front. “I’ll be waiting.” He had no idea just how long he would be doing so.
The evening’s fireworks were preceded by threatening rain clouds and, eventually, more than a couple drops of rain. The family huddled under a nearby tree before a dash to better cover. The rain would pass after a short time and return briefly for a second visit. In the end it gave up, allowing explosives to brightly paint the darkened holiday sky.
Unfortunately, one staple of the day was missing. Grandmom and Pop Pop are no longer around to celebrate; their trademark house along the old parade route sold long ago to unfamiliar owners. I have no doubt they watched from the heavens, though. I bet they had a much better view.
