There’s something about living in the Boston area that makes the Fourth of July unique. I think it’s because so much of what we celebrate in this country began here.

We sang at Quincy Market today. This is one of those historic sites that was renovated back in the seventies. It’s got all sorts of shops and carts and places to eat. It’s a tourist’s delight. I know there are similar places in many cities in the country. I’ve been to the one in New York City (South St. Seaport) and I know Baltimore has a place a lot like the one in Boston.

The place was teeming with people today, and there were flags and bunting flying everywhere, some men dressed up like Uncle Sam, and a sense of everything being American .

We were right near the site of the Boston Massacre, and could have walked to Paul Revere’s house, or the Granary Burial ground where Mother Goose is buried. The subway is a short hop to Old Ironsides, or Bunker Hill.

I really do love the sense of history that you get in the Boston area. I’ll often go to Lexington or Concord just to walk around (it’s only about a 20 minute drive from my apartment), or to Walden Pond. I’ve always loved American colonial history, and I think in part it’s because I live where it all happened.

It was well into the nineties outside today, but there wasn’t much humidity, which was a blessing. That’s not to say I didn’t feel like a McDonald’s french fry out in the sun. We sang in three different spots – sort of like the wandering troubadours – and only one was in the shade. That was on a stage, and it wasn’t too bad up there because every once in a while there was a breeze. The other two spots were in the bright sunshine and they were downright brutal.

We sang for about two hours, taking five-minute breaks here and there. It was hard when we weren’t on the stage, because we were out in the open and couldn’t hear one another very well. The sound also tends to get lost out in the open space.

I guess the audiences enjoyed us, so that’s all that counts. I know the Uncle Sam who was on stilts got a kick out of any of the patriotic songs that we sang.

I didn’t have to drive in or take the subway this year, unlike last year. Dee’s brother drove, as he’s the one who booked all the performers for this weekend. (There were several barbershop quartets – both men and women – performing as well.) His two children also came along.

His daughter T is thirteen and his son P is seven. P has ADHD, and is one of the most ill behaved children I have ever met. He did calm down a bit when he took his pill, but even then, his behavior was what I would consider to be absolutely unacceptable. He was rude, demanding, whiny and spent a good deal of time hitting his sister, who thought it was her God-given right to hit back.

And I was sitting in the backseat with them and had to watch all of it.

I’m telling you, if Keith or Matilda ever behaved like that in public they’d be dead meat. But Dee and her brother seemed to tolerate it, and I wouldn’t have.

The thing is that I know that Keith and Matilda wouldn’t act like that. They might do that at home, but they never do it in public.

I wasn’t thrilled to have to stop at a restaurant with them, especially because P whined about everything on the menu and spent most of his time crawling around the booth. But everyone else was hungry (I could have happily done without.), so we stopped.

I was never so glad to be home again.

I had just a bit of time to change, wind down and have a cool drink before I had to go and join my family at the fireworks. My mother went for the first time in years. Matilda is such a diplomat. She made sure that she spent time with each of us, and of course made me relate the story of her at her first fireworks over and over. (She was about two and kept telling all of us to "cober our ears".)

I just loved one statement that she made tonight. We were asking my brother if he was recovering from his jet lag, and he was telling us that whenever he sat for a while he’d fall asleep. Someone commented that his snoring must be loud, when Matilda said , "but I like it when I wake up and hear him snoring, it means that I know he’s there".

The fireworks were just swell. I love fireworks, and all the colors in the sky. There were some really pretty ones that ended up looking like weeping willow trees, and others that would have a star or flag appear in the center.

It was a nice night.