The family bugged me to go to fireworks but then gave up the fight, heading off to bed while actively expressing their dislike in who Lisa chose to be their father. Usually that doesn't bother me, but this time I said WTH and rousted them out of bed to go the South Shore Frolics. (Lisa and YaYa chose to stay home, even though Yaya had been the biggest proponent) . No parking whatsoever, so Junie, Smiley and I had to walk from a spot on Indiana and Fernwood to our eventual seats a block east of Texas and Superior (Mapquest it). It was a great view and the fireworks were swell, and I couldn't have had better company. :)
Here's the adult version of the before-mentioned evening: All of the preceding was true. But in addition, the kids got an extra special treat. A group of young males, eager to disprove cultural notions about the role they play in society, decided to start screaming and swearing and hollering the N word, over some slight, be it real or imagined. Before too long they were brawling in the street, both with members of their party and some locals who had told them to knock it off. Two pairs of guys were swinging at each other, and another pair were rolling around on the ground like it was a "stop drop and roll" exercise." As we were sitting at the end of a dead end street about 150 ft from this fracas (actually, Lauren was sitting on my shoulders) I was a bit concerned. Then - and I mean this literally - I saw how cartoonishly inept they were at inflicting damage on one another, gauged my chances of success as "high" if it came to it, and told the kids to ignore it and watch the fireworks. Two squads came to break it up by by then they'd moved on .F'ing ridiculous.
