Yesteryear

Its the fourth of July once again and I can't help but compare it to the ones I experienced years ago. I was new to Boston and loved the history behind this momentous day. Didn't I ever feel this before? Honestly-no. Growing up in a resort town in Florida wasn't exactly Everytown,USA and with a family straight out of a Tennessee Williams play....you get the picture.
I lived on Beacon Hill and until 1976, the routine was pretty much the same except for the cast of characters. About a half an hour before the concert, you'd make sure you're out the door. You'd walk across the footbridge and voila! ...you're at the Hatch shell. When I met girlfriends, we'd usually take beer and pizza. When I went with my gay friends, the menu boasted gourmet food and good wine. Arthur Fiedler was alive then (when he died I cried like a baby) and it was always incredible.
In 1976, it was the bi-Centennial. Against my better judgment, I was talked into going. After having my new suede moccasins ruined by a man with a German accent and
generally being squished by a sea of people, a terrible realization hit me. Our wonderful secret was out. The world had discovered 4th of July in Boston and it was never the same.
But the memories are still nice. Happy Fourth everyone!