Dearest Rachel –
After spending Thursday evening wandering around the local Frontier Days festival, you’ll recall that I wasn’t particularly enthused about getting out and about on Independence Day, despite being of the understanding that it’s a once-a-year thing. If I wait until I’m “in the mood” for a fireworks display, there won’t be any for me to take in; I have to go out that day if I want to see it, whether I want to or not, since I won’t get another chance until next year (and even that’s not guaranteed, as just for example, it would appear that the city decided to dispense with their fireworks at Navy Pier this year. Of course, there are other reasons as to why next year can’t be taken as a given, but considering our relationship these days, that should go without saying, in part due to the fact that it’s a sensitive subject).
Still, it’s not something I was really seeking out, unless there was enthusiasm from other quarters compelling me. If you were still here, that would be sufficient, but in your absence, I would need another external force to dislodge me from our home and room – and the boys rarely manage to muster enough of that to get themselves up and out, let alone myself. If it sounds disappointing that I would run the risk of not participating in any of the local events celebrating the Fourth, I apologize. It just so happens that I have issues with inertia, and determining what’s worth getting up and out for.
That being said, once I’m actually up and on my way (wherever that may be), I don’t have any expectations for the evening to speak of. I’ve been to fireworks displays before that have been minimal to the point of real disappointment, but also to ones where the gunpowder hung so thick in the air that I’ve overheard other spectators compare it to one war or another they actually fought in. I’ve been to many where the explosions a so far away as to barely be visible (especially when there are trees and buildings in the way), and one or two that sent me (and by extension, my parents) running for my life. Heck, I’m pretty sure Daniel and I have even spent the Fourth just chilling at home, listening to everything going off around us without a concern about where it was or what it looked like (granted, those tended to be in years when’d been able to be invited to a party on a day other than the Fourth itself, but still…). Whatever was going to happen last night would undoubtedly fall somewhere on the existing continuum of my experience, and not be likely to set a new outlier mark.
Although… when Kerstin suggested a drone display that was supposedly taking place in Elgin (at least, it said something about an automobile dealership there which, now that I think about it, sounds rather odd. I yesterday mentioned about how difficult it was to find parking for the local festival; imagine adding the lure of a light show and the fact that most of the parking spaces would already be taken up by cars without owners even, and that seems a most impractical venue. At least there wouldn’t be any danger of hot cinders falling on and damaging the merchandise for sale), I was intrigued. That it was apparently set in Elgin – which we really hadn’t set foot in since Daniel graduated from Judson University there – seemed like a good chance to drop by the area for a meal before checking out the display. After all, the branch of the sushi place we used to frequent had a few things on offer that couldn’t be found at our location (not that we’ve been to the one here for a long time, as our collection of still-unused gift cards could attest).
So we had a plan of sorts, but as the day wore on without much chatter (save for that about the rain on the parade in Des Plaines, which Erin was participating in), it slowly became less likely that anything was going to happen at all. Which I was okay with; again, it wouldn’t be the first time the day passed without much notice. But after the noon hour passed in indolence, I had to get myself something to eat. As I was preparing myself a sandwich, Daniel called out from the family room that I shouldn’t “spoil [my] dinner.” Despite neither him nor Logan having moved from their chairs for a couple of hours, they seemed to be of the understanding as to where we were going, and looking forward to it,even though the group chat had been silent on the matter all day.
I pointed this out to them, and they proceeded to get onto the chat themselves, asking for responses, at least. I was already aware that Erin had only been free on Thursday (although that still didn’t work out), and it didn’t surprise me that Ellen’s situation with her mother precluded going out as well. But at least Kerstin seemed willing and ready to head out to the event she suggested in the first place. So while there was less than the full complement, it was more than I’d been expecting a few hours before.
The first wrinkle in the plan came when Kerstin arrived, and clarified that the light show wasn’t so much at the Elgin dealership as sponsored by it. The display was actually taking place at a stadium in Hoffman Estates, not too far from where I used to work (but far enough that I shouldn’t expect to run into anyone I knew from there). Not a big deal; we could eat in Elgin and backtrack to the stadium with plenty of time to spare, as we weren’t anywhere near to dusk when we took off.
However, that was where the second wrinkle appeared. Despite having checked online and having been assured that the Station would be open until nine (giving us a half-hour to get to the venue even if we took two full hours for dinner), the parking lot was empty when we arrived. A sheet of paper was plastered to the door, announcing that the place would be closed after four p.m. Indeed, the entire complex (I hesitate to call it either a ‘strip mall’ or a ‘campus,’ but it’s somewhere in between) had shut down for the holiday, it appeared, with the last place to close shuttering at seven – meaning we’d missed it by mere minutes.
I hardly need to tell you that this disappointed Daniel to no end; he may prefer the all-you-can-eat restaurant to our old conveyer belt sushi place these days (which is why those gift cards have gone begging for so long), but once he has expectations of such a meal, it’s hard to mistake the disappointment in his demeanor. It is a problem with him having a near-total inability to lie; when he’s disappointed, he can’t be diplomatic about it, either. He can’t put on a brave face and pretend everything is fine when, to him, it’s not. He proceeded to shoot down one nearby sports bar and then another along the way (although I confess to having demurred on a pizza place that I often find myself at with Lars, as well, so he wasn’t the only one turning down options) as we tried to come up with something to both eat and keep us occupied until dusk, when the show started.
Eventually, we found ourselves right outside of the stadium, where there was a steakhouse across the street. It still wasn’t what Daniel had been expecting – and honestly, it seemed like it would be a big meal that I didn’t need, either, especially when our server boasted that the place made most of their dishes from scratch, so it might take a longer time than most “fast food restaurants,” as she put it, suggesting that if we were in a hurry, we might be at the wrong place. We admitted that we were there for the drone show, but upon hearing that, she dismissed our concerns; “Oh, that’s two hours from now, you’ll have plenty of time for that.” Which might have been so, if we could have decided what we wanted faster, or skipped dessert afterwards.
As it was, we barely got the check by nine-thirty, and thanks to a bathroom stop before leaving the place (which you would have been able to relate to, if not the layout of the area – the place had an equine theme, and the stalls, rather than being labeled by sex, simply had plaques on them with a horse’s name and their general disposition. Oh, and there were eight of them), we didn’t get outside before the show started. There was some thought about just going out onto the restaurant’s patio, but our server admitted that the building itself would get in the way, so we would have to go around the place to actually see anything. But at least we had paid our dues to use their lot to park our car, and we wouldn’t have to deal with the level of chaos that comes from leaving such an event.
However, we did miss out on more of the show than we thought; apparently, drone shows run something like twenty minutes, as opposed to the forty-five that we tend to expect (yeah, there’s that word again) from a fireworks show. What we saw was interesting, especially when they would arrange into a tableau and then pivot around a center line, so everyone could see it from any given direction. But even out from behind the restaurant, there was still the stadium and a number of trees blocking our line of sight; so it wasn’t so much the angle of our line of sight as everything between us and the drones. And it seemed like they only had a few formations to assemble into; a simulation of fireworks, a display of Lady Liberty, “Happy 4th of July!” and a map of the country with all the state lines.
Once the drones arranged themselves to form the local village seal, they switched off (which, admittedly, they did between each formation) and, after a puzzled pause while everybody tried to determine whether that was it or not, we started to see cars pulling out of the stadium parking lot. Guess they were done; we hadn’t known what to expect, but there we had it.
By comparison, the trip home was uneventful. Since we left via the restaurant, we weren’t dealing with the mad rush of traffic, and the streets home were all but empty. We could even see other municipalities’ fireworks along the way (which rather explained why we didn’t have that much traffic to fight – although it’s weird to realize we wouldn’t be dealing with much outside our house for once, now that Arlington Park has been torn down).
And that was the night, honey. Not the most interesting night, and there were a few things that went wrong, but it was okay, I think. It’ll keep me until next year, I’m fairly sure. For the time being, though, just continue to keep an eye on me, and wish me luck, honey; I’m sure that I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 