So being good American’s, after a morning of riding horses (ow), and an afternoon of Thai food and naps, Kelly and I headed out to Dad’s work to shoot off fireworks. His work is in the middle of nowhere, so it is actually legal to shoot them there. And to top this off, I had the best idea. Why not bring the dogs? So we did.

Anyway, we got out there and surveyed what had been purchased, and I quickly became disheartened. What was up with all of this piddly shit? Mom and Dad and Abby had purchased sensible, small fireworks. Some roman candles, some fountains, and a few bottle rocket type things. This isn’t what I wanted. I wanted something big. One of those crazy fireworks that looks like it could put a small satellite into orbit. So Kelly and I headed back to the firework stand, and made the best purchase of my life.

It was sitting there, on the top shelf, and I knew from the moment that I saw it that it would be ours. It was called the “Dixie Celebration”, and had a big Confederate Flag on it, and was so ridiculous that it was perfect. Sure, there were bigger ones. Hell, you can get ridiculous ones for hundreds of dollars. But this one was $25, which was just about what I wanted to spend. Plus, with the purchase of the Dixie Celebration, you get a bunch of other stuff free.

So skip to the end of the night, and it was time to fire off the ol’ Dixie. And let me tell you, it did not disappoint. It was like a scaled down version of the fireworks that you see if you go downtown. Except since it is right over your head, it is way more impressive. I’m already looking forward to next year, and the next ridiculous thing I can buy.

Anyway, I can totally recommend spending a little extra and getting the crazy looking fireworks. Everyone will be impressed. Unless you live in the middle of the city and it is 1:00 in the morning and I’m trying to sleep.

Oh, and the dogs were terrified and hated the whole experience.

So we gathered our stuff up yesterday, packed a lunch, and headed out. After driving way the hell out to Defiance, MO, we ended up at the polo field. And as we turned up the drive to head to the parking I thought “Hmm… There sure aren’t many people here.” And then sure enough, as we drove a little further up, we realized that there were NO people there. The whole area was completely deserted.

After some quick checking on our iPhones to determine that yes, we did have the right day, we decided that something else must have gone terribly wrong, and we went and had our picnic on the playground of some random elementary school.

Well no content to just let this go, when we arrived back at Kelly’s parents to have dinner with them, I decided to check the website again, and there was a number to call to see about cancellations and things of that nature. On a lark, I called. The match was scheduled for 5:00, and we had arrived at 3:00. Oops.

It was too late, though, and we decided to just sit on the couch and watch bad television instead. There will be other polo matches.

Anyway, so in light of this, Kelly and I made some ridiculous plans for this weekend. I guess in what is going to become a yearly tradition, unless I put my foot down, we are going to go watch a Polo match out West somewhere. Way west of Chesterfield is about as specific as I can be. We went and saw one last year, and it was marginally amusing, mostly for the crowd, which consisted of some normal looking people, and then people who were really upset that the normal looking people were there. And a dandy.

The game itself was actually surprisingly boring. It is kind of like hockey on horses. Every once in a while one of them will start running really fast and everyone gets excited. But for the most part they are standing around fidgeting with the ball. It is probably more fun to play.

So this year we are going back, and it is this Sunday. Now the high is only supposed to be around 90, but we’re still probably going to die. But we are taking a picnic lunch, and Kelly really likes her horses, so I will dutifully tag along. And hopefully have a good time laughing at all of the upper crust sweating their asses off just like us.

And hey, if you want to join us, it is only $10 a car!

And then Kelly came along. And she had a dog, Mr. Linus. And Mr. Linus is the sweetest, friendliest, best little dog in the whole world, and it made us reconsider our views on dogs. At least in as much as we could admit that we liked Mr. Linus.

Well eventually I decided that I wanted to have a Mr. Linus of my own. So one day Kelly and I drove way out to the middle of nowhere and got Snowy, a dog that couldn’t be any less like Mr. Linus. She is not sweet, or friendly, or the best at anything. But very slowly she has gotten to the point where she is an acceptable pet, and she is legitimately excited when Kelly or I come home, and she will finally let my parents hold her. And I guess that little change was all it took.

Because then Mom decided that she wanted a Mr. Linus of her own. And after much going back and forth in her head, she decided to get one. And so now my parents have a little dog named Chewie. And he is kinda sweet, but they’ve only had him for a day, so he is still scared and getting used to things.

Who knows where this disease will spread next. Maybe Phil and Helen will get a dog. Or maybe one day I’ll come home to find that the disease has turned full circle, and Kelly got another dog.