Red, white and a little blue

Fourth of July parties are on the endangered list. We are creeping toward a friendlier elbow-rubbing, potluck-sharing, firework-igniting, beer-swilling style of soirée with which we were once familiar, but this year’s event may still sport a touch of social distancing. Perhaps the six-feet rule has been shortened (for some of you) to arm’s length, but I wouldn’t break out the mistletoe for Christmas in July.

As a musician, I’ve played the same Independence Day party for the better part of a decade. It’s predictable and perfect. With a stage only feet from the water, I can taste the pitchers of mint juleps and whisky sours, smell the buffet line of fried chicken, hot dogs and casseroles next to a half dozen pasta salads all set up on a well-manicured lawn. I can see the lights of the firework show as they launch from our hosts’ private wharf and feel the pressure from the concussive explosions. It’s a heck of a way to celebrate. But it ain’t happening.