Carlsbad Art and Culture

Independence Day, more commonly know as the fourth of July, is a federal holiday celebrating the United States’ independence from Great Britain. Patriotism waves in the breeze and flags are scattered throughout our neighborhoods. As the sun reaches its zenith, the beaches become pierced with colorful umbrellas like a motionless patient on the bed of an acupuncturist. Front lawns explode with red nose nonsense and snakes slither around every corner.  The fourth of July is an important date in our nation’s history, but when the weather is perfect, the water is warm and half naked bodies bounce along the beach, the day’s significance is lost somewhere within red keg cups, white sandy beaches and the cloudless blue sky.

Bikinis and board shorts dripped ocean salt along the sidewalks of the coast highway and bikes stuck to chain link fences like tacks on a frequently passed light pole. A purse became a beach bag and a chore was applying layers of sunblock. Staring eyes scanned the streets under dark glasses while keg cup yielding party hoppers slid across slip n slides and attempted to convince the opposite sex to a casual body shot. As the bodies of the beach and barbecue began to golden and the sun clocked out, a red eyed community looked skyward.

A tradition dating back more than a century became the latest victim of the sagging economy. The Oceanside pier remained quiet and sent families in search of the night’s fireworks. For others, one local tradition would come to an end, but be replaced with another. Families gathered on the dark bluff overlooking the Agua Hedionda Lagoon. The power plant flicked in the distance and the rare motorists chanced a drive along the 101. The first hint of activity shot from Legoland beyond the lagoon and power lines shortly after 8:30, followed by an eruption of cheers. Like the past years over the dark night ocean, the finale lit the sky and left each spectator with a series of sunburned goosebumps.

For a beach community in Southern California, the fourth of July weekend is not only a holiday, but a tradition. The beach becomes the starting point where ocean dips are sporadic and Frisbee tosses are a must. The house and lawn parties kick into gear when your cooler is empty and your belly rumbles. With all the chaos, it is hard to remember the significance of the day, but amongst a front lawn scattered with empty keg cups, always stands a steadfast miniature American flag.

Did you watch the entire video? Should he have dealt with that situation in a safer way? How?