Sometimes, it takes a few days to gather your thoughts about an event into a series of well-timed blasts that will quickly bring down the wall between Then and Now, leaving the event to be seen as it happened or at least how it was perceived. But this is not always the case, especially for those who are as plugged into the Now as I am... the facts blur, events and timelines diminish - particularly in the company of drink. But this isn't a problem! Simply fill the gaps in time with putty and sand it down. Ho ho, this is how History books are written!
To the best of my knowledge, Newington Day started with the best of intentions; Jenny and I went to Leigh's to help set up. We erected some tents and I made wicks for the tiki torches in the heat. We put out food and set up the stereo outdoors. This kind of labor, as you can imagine, grinds it's boney cleats into your thirst, so I had a few beers. People started to show up - strangers, conversationalists. The Bacon Rap came up, and a crude early version of the recording of it was played, so I had a few beers.
As more people showed up, the event descended into weirdness. There were a lot of motorcycles, which is fine, and I should have been prepared for this, but I suppose I didn't expect them to be in such close proximity to the food... so I had a few beers.
As if from out of nowhere - it was time for the Fireworks. A group of us headed out on foot to the center of town - the center of the party - to watch. Streets lined with cars, people gathering in the streets and their back yards - this was America, this was Neighbor Country.
I know a few things about this moment: at one point Jenny did, in fact, break away from the group with our dog Django, in a sprint, with one fist in the air yelling "Newington! Newington," the Fireworks display was surprisingly good for a small town, and I definitely had a verbal altercation with a soccer mom in an SUV full of children.
As I walked away from the Fireworks, as many others were at the time, I was drinking a bottle of beer. The last, in fact, of the three that I brought for the short walk to town. The neighborhoods of downtown Newington were swarming with pedestrians and crushing traffic as everyone left the Fireworks. Sometime after doing a poor job of secretly peeing on someone's lawn, and noticing a large gap between myself and the cars and people in front of me, I began waving the cars by. One car, though, would not pass, but instead the driver pulled up next to me and accosted me for my drinking of a bottle of beer in public. Me, with my delicate sensibilities!
This lead to a lengthy conversation about why she wouldn't just pass us, which Dave inevitably took offense to and reacted by walking slowly in front of her car, blocking the way. Her reaction was not favorable when I explained: "He's just being a douchebag," claiming she had three children in her car. In a moment, all hope was lost. The only thing left to do was tell her I didn't care if she had nine kids in the there, then lay down in the road in front of her car.
From there, things get a little hazy as we headed back to Leigh's place, but this is for certain; it was very dark out and I think someone attempted to have sex on the steps of the church next door.
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