My Least Favorite Holiday

I could do without Independence Day.

At least without the fireworks, anyway. Ever since my time in Iraq I've been sensitive to loud noises. When I first got back, I was ready to dive to the floor with every backfire or artillery fire from the nearby training ranges. Last year I was in my hometown on July 4th, and I had big plans to take my son to see the fireworks in Mountaineer Bowl. I have many fond memories of this annual event in my youth. We were taking a walk around the neighborhood that afternoon, and even the firecrackers from the local kids were too much. I apologized profusely to my son and went to bed early.

This year was better, but not by a lot. We attended a fireworks display Monday night at the home of some friends, and when the first few booms sounded, I had to go into the house. I finally got back outside and watched the show with my daughter on my lap. I jumped at the loud ones and cringed at the high-pitched ones, but made it through. By the end it didn't bother me so much - it helped to have a little girl in my lap and my wife next to me, and to be surrounded by other people.

Interesting how the mind can have a very hard time overcoming the body's deep-seated reactions.