merriment and machine guns

i've never been crushtastic over the 4th of july. a neurotic kid, i feared and hated fireworks because they might cause a fire or blow your hand off. or a stray ember could singe your eye. then you'd be blind. does that sound like fun. huh? being blind?

the other obstacle towards over the top independence day merriment was my family's lackluster attitude towards the motherland. the only political statement i ever heard my mom say was 'reagan has a rat face.' my pops was an unrepentant outlaw hippie, a cowboy who hated the man in all it's carnations. it didn't help that he was a 'guest' of the state for two non-consecutive terms.

i found myself in a car loaded with friends and a trunk loaded with illegal fireworks. racing towards a rocky beach in southeast asia, on the fourth of july. as mentioned, i loathed the big explodey things, but the teenage boys convinced me it would be fun. they offered me fried chicken and taiwanese beer. i caved. we found a spot and started to rig up a bottlerocket when the 5-0 (asian style) rolled up on us.

in this province the custom was to ride it 7 or 8 officers to a tiny car. hanging out the window with outdated sub-machine guns. they questioned us, firmly, in chinese. but i was clueless. 5 weeks in taiwan had taught me the following-

watermelon. sleep. dead. thank-you. i love you.

i tried to put these words in a pleasing order for the coppers. but it didn't work.

they became agitated. handcuffed two of our boys. we started to get really nervous. a bunch of kids in a foreign country. no u.s. embassy. (america doesn't officially recognize taiwan). i imagined scenes from midnight express. i imagined myself a pawn in some sort of pan asian sex slave trade.

in the end, they just confiscated our chicken, beer, and fireworks. but it was cool.

i hate fireworks anyway.