On July 4, 2010, Keith, Brandon and I found ourselves on the deck of the Intrepid in New York City watching the fireworks. It was stunning and as the city skyline lite up and the music blared, I was enthralled with the reflection of them in the shiny glass facades of the buildings behind us. It was no easy feat to get Keith to go. The two of us had very different ideas about adventures such as this one. I am the impulsive one. All someone has to do is say “road trip” and I’d be the first one with keys in hand and the GPS fired up, asking “where to?” It was my idea to see fireworks in New York. As I was sitting in our office, I turned to Keith and announced that we should see them. Keith morphed into Jeff Dunham’s Walter right before my eyes, as he often did when my impetuous nature displayed itself. It prompted him to run down the list of requirements I would have to meet before he would agree to go. It went something like this:
“I won’t stand in line, we aren’t going to spend a fortune, I better be able to sit, I’m not going to lug a cooler and chairs through the city, there is no way I’m going to fight crowds, if we don’t have a good view then I’m leaving, We better have reservations because I’m not interested in heading into the city at the crack of dawn just to stake out a spot, . . . .” and my personal favorite that he often quoted when discussing any hot outside activities “I’m not going to go somewhere and sit around while my balls are dripping in sweat”. He’d pull that one out whenever I invited him along on camping trips. I’d always pack up Zach and Brandon and we’d leave him at home.
My work was cut out for me and when I found the Intrepid for just a few bucks each, with reserved seating and private entrance, I was able to convince him to do it. The entire event from boarding the Intrepid to the last boom of the firework show met all his requirements, except for maybe the sweaty ball part – but he didn’t care. When it was over, he was like a little kid – all wound up and excited. He had video taped the whole show and over the next few weeks, would play back the video to everyone he knew while providing constant commentary about the weather, the fireworks, the Intrepid, and that he couldn’t believe that he had grown up right next to New York and had waited so long to do this. We were a good match in that respect. I’d throw out some hair brained idea, Keith would give me a laundry list of requirements that I needed to meet if I wanted him to attend, and then just like that – we’d have a plan of action laid out that would feed my need to explore and keep us safe and comfortable.
Keith loved fireworks. He never went a year without catching the display. I’d want to stay home and he’d look so hurt that I didn’t want to join in. I’d eventually buckle under the puppy dog look and go. I was always glad I did. Not because of the show, but because it was such a joy watching him. He really was a wide eyed kid every 4th of July, as if he had never seen fireworks before in his life. This 4th of July, I couldn’t bring myself to watch them. I brought the dogs inside because they don’t fare well with explosives and the three of us sat around in the dark. I could make out the big booms in the distance. I’m sure Keith was there and I hope he can forgive me for sitting this one out. I just know that in all the whistles, booms and bangs, I would have been too keenly aware of the silence he left behind.
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