I've watched July 4th fireworks at Salt Lake's Sugarhouse Park for more than three decades.
Watched with my sweetheart before we got married. Watched them there together as newlyweds and young parents. A son remembers falling asleep on the Highland High football field when we watched them together as a family. He'll be a senior this year.
In the last few years, I've watched them from my neighbor's driveway, but last night I got on my bike and rode down to the park. A couple of my nephews were there somewhere on the practice field, but I didn't spot them. I didn't feel alone though. I felt that I was an American among Americans.
Maybe I'll try the bicycle approach again next year. And maybe I'll watch Avalon before I go.