BORN ON THE FIFTH OF JULY

NOT QUITE A  YANKEE-DOODLE  DANDY

Just as I am always one letter away from NORMAL, I am also 2 hours late for Yankee Doodle Dandy status
.
Of course, when I was a small child and going to McCoy to see the fireworks and hearing the dull thuds of fire crackers  going off 
in the neighborhood,  I thought that they were celebrating my birthday. 
Always able I guess to read the world in the most self- flattering way.
 I would loll on the old couch that was on our second story porch to catch a breeze as the humid July night went noisily by. My sisters were asleep at last in post fireworks happiness.

 Sometimes the  night was loudly  punctuated by the homecoming of our neighbor JACKO .  He had a good whiskey tenor and if he had enough to drink, he would stand at the gate of his sister's  house and loudly serenade  the wife who lived downstairs. I have already described the beauty and goodness of Marge White.

His best song was "My Wild Irish Rose" even my mother had to admit  he did a decent job with that one.  Finally a loud male voice would suggest that he shut up and go inside. And usually he did,

My mother would go inside too and I could hear her cracking the ice trays and soon she would emerge with a pitcher of sweet lemonade.
I would roll the cold glass along my forehead  and they would forget about me as I pretended to sleep but really listened to every word of  my mother and Aunt Anna.

 Even now I love to fall asleep to the sound of low talk in another  room. Or even the  Late Shows murmur on TV  that my husband watches while I am dozing off. It is strangely soothing.