For a long time, the Fourth of July seemed to have a surprise awaiting me. This started with July 4, 1993, when I was awakened by a phone call from an ex-girlfriend telling me I was going to be a father. Fortunately, fatherhood has suited me fine, and in recent years, there have been no surprises.
Today, I'll go out to the great 4th of July party that Bubs and his family throw every year. I'll be flying solo-- Kim's on her way to visit her family in Minnesota, my stepdaughter Mel is on her annual visit to her father's parents in Florida and Adam, the best surprise I ever got, is with my ex this weekend. So I'll leave you with a link to the tale of 1997's Fourth of July surprise, when my first wife asked for a divorce, knowing full well that I was fighting for custody of the July 4th surprise from four years before, and on top of that was about to start student teaching. The night ended in a biker bar in Mattoon, Illinois with one of my closest friends, watching an AC/DC cover band, and ended particularly badly for one guy, who should have heeded the warning that it's all fun and games until somebody gets an eye put out.
Happy Fourth of July to you all!
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