Towards A More Perfect Holiday
ditch the expectations
The Fourth of July has always been one of my favorite holidays.
Not necessarily for what we celebrate, but how.
In doing a brief scan of my brain, I can say that I have worked for at least half of the Fourth of Julys throughout my adult life. I’ve never found this to be a hardship. One of the accepted truths of any kind of job in the service industry is that you must work while others enjoy leisure time and holidays.
Allow me to entertain you with a brief anecdote about being part of the labor force on July Fourth. I was 17, running the McDonalds drive-through. It was a crazy busy day. I wasn’t far into my shift but my register till was all big bills and nothing small enough to break a fifty. I followed my manager back to the safe while she made change. As she closed the safe, I turned to walk away. My hand didn’t come with me. I was jerked back hard at the same time my manger watched the safe door bounced back open as she slammed it shut. Luckily, she didn’t try to slam it a second time, but looked to see the impediment keeping the door from closing was my thumb caught in the hinged side. Forcefully, she instructed me to not look as she guided my arm out of harm’s way. It took all of those 3 seconds before pain registered. Luckily, it was only the tip of my thumb: a crushed fingernail and a bit of bone crunch. Luckily, I hadn’t taken any caffeine pills that day, which was how I got through working two full-time summer jobs and one part-time summer one to shore up my college savings, but which also meant that my blood stood a chance of clotting. Luckily, the ER staff successfully picked all the bone and nail fragments out of the wound. My thumb is a bit flat now. But I survived.
This story has nothing to do with my deep love for how the Fourth is celebrated. Talking about the day can be a little difficult, as the roots of the holiday are political. Our country and our lives are political. Things are hella fucked up. Right now, I want to focus on the way we observe the day versus other holidays, and not the miasma of muck we are muddled in.1
My feelings are centered around the expectations of the day—or rather, the complete lack of expectations.
Placed strategically between Memorial Day and Labor Day, July 4th is a national day of play (except for those of us who work). It’s a free day in the middle of the summer to do with what you please. As a day, it encompasses 24 hours, just like Valentine’s Day, Thanksgiving, or Christmas. But as a holiday, it is gloriously free of the burden of expectations.
You’re not expected to play nice with your family of origin. You get to hang with whomever you choose, with extra points placed on proximity. No one wants to spend the day sitting in traffic. With a few exceptions, the Fourth isn’t a day built around intense family bonding or putting yourself in the path of potentially hurtful relatives, because this is how we always do it. July Fourth is about spontaneity, fun, whim, pleasure, and well, freedom.
You aren’t expected to produce a Michelin-starred menu. The accepted holiday meal isn’t one that keeps you tethered to the kitchen for days. There are zero expectations to use the day to show off your culinary prowess—unless it comes to your grill technique or mad cooler-packing skills. There are no roasts, no fussy sides, no endless hours in the kitchen sweating over complicated dishes that must be just like my grandmother used to make. This is coleslaw and hot dogs. Potato chips and popsicles. Whack open a watermelon and viola! dessert.
You’re not expected to get brunch or dinner reservations. No sitting across a dimly-lit table, eating your way through an uninspired prix-fixe menu trying to conjure love. No queueing up for a requisite brunch to show matrilineal love.
You aren’t expected to do all of the things. No romance necessary. Nothing to wrap, decorate or bake. No cards to send, decorations to drag down from the attic, spend three days installing and then another three days taking down and putting away. No pageants, recitals or shows. No phone calls, visits or annual letters to pen.
You aren’t expected to look good. You don’t need to find the perfect dress or make sure your tie still fits. If you can resist the urge to fall prey to Old Navy’s fast fashion Fourth shirts, all the better—or recycle one from 7 years ago. The sartorial aim for the day is to stay cool while keeping sunburn and mosquitoes at bay. Extra points if you can easily switch to swimming mode.
You aren’t expected to spend a ton of money. Fourth of July won’t put you in debt. You won’t be leaving your Memorial Day celebration early to get a jump on sales to be ready for a Fourth shopping frenzy. You don’t have to spend time and money on gifts for everyone you know. Go ahead, splurge on some scratch-off tickets or maybe a donation to your local civil rights org.
You’re not expected to believe anything. There is no overarching dogma. This isn’t about afterlife, church, or spirituality. Ok, I’ll contend that America has kind of failed on the whole freedom thing [unless you’re a gun], is maybe not doing so hot on the whole equality thing [unless you’re a straight, white, cishet man], and really lost the plot on the whole separation of church and state thing; not to mention that the whole democratic concept of rule by majority has been supplanted by a perplexing late-stage capitalist gerrymandered minority rule. But no one is gonna jump down your throat for saying “Have a great weekend,” versus “Happy Fourth.” No one is primed to launch a war against Starbucks for their holiday cup design. No one will call you out for not hanging a flag (which may or may not be made overseas).
You aren’t expected to steal from other cultures. I fully acknowledge the United States has yet to make amends to First Nation and indigenous folks, and reparations surrounding enslaved peoples. On this day there is no struggle over whether to honor the original inhabitants or maintain a blind adherance to Eurocentric mythology. As a cultural expression, Fourth of July evolved on its own. There are no traditions appropriated from other belief systems, like trees and bunnies/eggs; because there really aren’t any July 4th traditions except the ones you make. Sure, we’ve got fireworks, but almost everybody loves fireworks (except for people with PTSD, dogs, and drought-riddled areas).
You’re not expected to use it for errands. July Fourth is a federal holiday with the same weight as Presidents Day, Veteran’s Day and a host of others. Because of its place mid-summer, it becomes exalted as a day of leisure, not one of buying mattresses or getting that much needed haircut.
You aren’t expected to do anything. You can sit home alone and read a book. You can work. You can binge watch Golden Girls or Gilmore Girls or envision a crossover. Nobody will pity you or feel obligated to invite you to join their family.
People don’t associate July Fourth with an increase of stress and depression as a result of overwhelming expectations. While Hallmark has yet to introduce a channel with movies solely about the magic of Independence Day, it’s still a magic day.
Because you get to do it almost however the f*ck you want.
I hope your weekend is two thumbs up (and no thumbs in the safe).
Here is a tidbit from Dan Rather, talking about the political complexities of the day. I recommend reading the post in its entirety.
On this Fourth of July, I am celebrating fully and without reservation. I honor it as a day of struggle, and the struggle endures. I recognize it as a day of reflection on how fragile our rights and democracy are. But I also see it as a day to acknowledge how far we have come and how far we can go. I will never accede to an America where that journey is over. And in this I know that I am not alone.
As I’m writing/in the final edit stages of this, news broke about sniper shooting in Illinois. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Thanks for this! I was really struggling with "celebrating our nation" this year but this puts it all in a perspective that I can live with. Thank you!