I don’t recall this being a thing when I was a kid. Of course, I have no clear memories of many July 4ths growing up and I have spent the bulk of my adult life hiding from the heat and the crowds on the 4th.

But a tradition that’s grown over time has come from my dad. For several years now, he has made a ritual of watching Jimmy Cagney’s movie, Yankee Doodle Dandy, every Independence Day.

He pulls up his rocker close to the TV in deference to his macular degeneration, and leans in close not to miss anything. The rest of us cluster on the couch and I google facts about George M. Cohan…did you know that he was divorced? He remarried shockingly soon, considering this flick is supposedly about A Great American Upholding Great American Values. Jimmy Cagney once auditioned to be in a Cohan production and was rejected. He wanted to do the movie because he needed some publicity rehab after beating a bad Communist rap.

I got a million of ’em, and they’re part of the ritual. It’s also part of the ritual that Dad turns around to me and gives me the friendly stinkeye as we watch the movie.

Me? I love a good ritual. Me? I’d rather watch the movie Independence Day every Independence Day. But Dad wants someone to watch with, and I am keenly aware that I never, ever, ever want to see July 4th roll around and not be able to sit with him while he sits twelve inches from the big screen, tapping his foot to “Over There” and waving off my reality bytes.

You’re a grand old dad, Dad.

© E. Stocking Evans 2012