Independence Day

If you're unfamiliar with Provo, Utah, it may come as some surprise--as it did to our friend Júlia (visiting from Catalonia, Spain)--that it is the Fourth of July capital of the country. Though such an assertion very much resembles many found in my freshmen's research papers (i.e. unsupported), it could very well be true. First, there is the parade. One of the largest parades on the Fourth, I've been told by Josh (i.e. a very authoritative source). Second, there is the Freedom Festival. Three or four blocks of wall-to-wall patriots eating funnel cakes and shopping for trinkets. If that isn't freedom, what is? Third, there is the Stadium of Fire. I don't think I have to tell you that Hannah Montana stands for everything great and noble about this country.

Despite the snippiness of the above paragraph, the Fourth of July is actually one of my favorite holidays. It baffles even me. Though I'm all for the I-love-this-country-for-its-principles-and-beauty-and-opportunities type of patriotism, I'm not so keen on what often ends up being the I-love-this-country-because-it's-the-BEST-country-in-the-world-so-why-should-I-learn-anything-else-about-anybody-and-I'm-proud-of-my-ignorance-and-arrogance-and-let's-blindly-follow-any-(Republican)-president-anywhere type of patriotism. The latter tends to manifest itself in scary ways on the Fourth. Like when Josh's Cleanflix co-director, Andrew, interviewed folks at the Freedom Festivals about immigrants (for a different movie) and it turned out they were all racist patriots. And I'm not just throwing around the word racist here like some of those "liberals" tend to do. These people really and truly hated Mexicans in a very blanket sort of way.


And then there is the amazing jerkiness in people that the parade reveals. Leave it to the riveting sight of mediocre high school bands and the beauty queens of "Fish Days" in Spanish Fork to cause a sweet looking grandfather with granddaughter on knee to berate us for blocking his view! while waiting to cross the street with our two-month-old (do you mind if we wait until the cannons pass first?).


And, yes, despite all this, I attend the parade, frequent the Freedom Festival, and LOVE the Stadium of Fire--well, not the Stadium part (to which I've never gone) but definitely the Fire. Here is why I do it. I see the parade as a great piece of Americana, one that brings a whole community together to celebrate what are often the average accomplishments of its members. I like watching the 75-pound high-school freshman struggle to carry a bass drum literally 3/4 his size in the back of a marching band like its the most important job he'll ever do. I like cheering for our local schools and universities and missionaries. I like hearing music dating back to the pioneers. And I like that everyone else thinks that all of these things are worth watching.


As for the Freedom Festival, there are frankly a lot of Mexicans for those patriots to hate. Another way of saying that is that the festival is wonderfully diverse, with delicious food (Pupusas!), great music (Monkey Grinder!), and a sense of the whole Utah Valley community rather than what often tends to be a rather racially segregated one.


And the Fire. I live for fireworks. There is nothing I like more than lying in our secret spot--don't think I'm going to reveal it--outside of the stadium, nestled on a blanket with my love, watching what really is one of the greatest shows on earth shower down on us. It's worth any amount of traffic we have to sit in afterwards.

And then there was the excuse to dress this little one in a very nerdy red-white-and-blue outfit:

Josh would like to add that, although having recently been accused of being on the fringes of the far-left, he loves America and Shetland Ponies.