Where's my BBQ

I have always loved the 4th of July. A day full of good times and good food. Strangely enough it is the date of my only real childhood injury. Most of us have had them. You know a broken arm falling out of a tree or stitches from a bicycle accident. Mine was a rocket to the back of the head. Every year we had a fireworks war at the park that was across the street from my house. It was the park kids vs. the project kids. Most years we sent them running back down the hill. So, my brother and his best friend light one of these big rockets with the plastic tip aiming it at another kid. I came along after they had already lit it. The next thing to happen was zoom, pow, screaming, crying, a trip to the emergency room and eight stitches. So, those who know me and have wondered how I got that scare in the back of my head now you know. I still haven't let my brother live it down.

I still wish I didn't have to spend yet another 4th of July at work. Sometimes makes me want to find another job. It's just the way things are in this business. We must have enough people to put on the shows. I can't just put the news on the back burner until Wednesday. I haven't looked the numbers but I'm sure nobody is watching. Their on the lake or at the pool. Some would ask what am I complaining about because I get paid double for holidays. I DON'T WANT DOUBLE! I WANT SOME BBQ! My dad is the king of BBQ. He really has it down to a science. So, I pack the kids into the car and take them grandmas' in east Tennessee. If I can't have a fun day and my dad's BBQ at least they can.