Week Twenty-Five: Fourth of July Party

This day and age, in some circles, patriotism is a bad word. In some ways, I have to agree. You've got to consider what one is being patriotic to. My father saw many patriotic Germans during World War II, for example, as a civilian in The Netherlands. But if we can balance patriotism with everlasting vigilance, then perhaps it's okay.

Then again, it might be more fun if we balanced patriotism with Everlasting Gobstoppers. Sometimes those who fret over what patriotism can mean in the wrong hands just ought to loosen up a bit. So on that vein, on with the John Philip Sousa and "Stars and Stripes Forever.



Let Sousa's song spool while you read, as there is no animation nor photo slide show with this piece. And don't read the comments on YouTube, either. We're strictly in the Patriotism/Everlasting Gobstopper Mode on the Cokesbury Party Blog.

Here's the invitation, which should be written on a cardboard cut in the shape of a flag, or on a bell to represent the Liberty Bell. You know. That thing in Philadelphia that rang when people didn't fret about the United States being the Evil Empire:

On the birthday of our country,

We're having a party to celebrate.

At eight o'clock on the Fourth of July,

Come to Pilcher's, and don't be late.

I have no idea who this mysterious Pilcher is, and the Internet, in its vast Sargasso sea of information, is no help. It can't possibly be Sergeant Pilcher, though the readers, author, and publisher of the Cokesbury Party Book would likely approve of his actions. So I can assume you can just substitute another last name for Pilcher in the invitation and leave it at that. Unless you want to send your guests some anti-invitations. And I love that Sgt. Pilcher's nickname is "Nobby."

Decorations for the party, or so says Cokesbury, will be "easy":

Use flags and bunting and red, while, and blue streamers for decorations. Pictures of great American characters may be hung on the walls.

It sounds easy until you consider that the likes of Homer Simpson, Peter Griffin and Courtney Love hardly count as great Americans, although Hank Hill might do in a pinch.

On to the first game:

The Names of the States. Give guests blank sheets of paper and pencils. Let couples work together. Ask them to write all the names of the states. This may look easy, but it is doubtful if any will finish the forty-eight in ten minutes. Give a prize to the one finishing first, unless the game is too long, in which case give a prize to the one having the longest list.

You read right: Forty-eight states. This is in 1932, remember. Alaska and Hawaii weren't made states until the 1950s. So fly the flag they used in A Christmas Story and see how many of your guests notice.

The next game is a good one to play with guests who arrive in full What is Patriotism umbrage, ready to do battle with anyone who dares suggest that the Fourth of July have meaning outside of Chinese fireworks and a few hamburgers burned on the grill (it should be noted that the really fierce anti-patriots won't even be thrilled about the fireworks and burgers; these are the ones you want to send to Pilcher.

The National Anthem: Do You Know It? Give to each guest the words of the "Star-Spangled Banner" written with the italicized words blank. Let them see which couple can fill the blanks correctly in the quickest time:

O! say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
O! say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

O! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: 'In God is our trust.'
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

(Interesting to note: Cokesbury leaves out the third verse, and ignores completely a fifth verse added to the anthem during the Civil War. Impress your freinds by singing it in its entirety, with lyrics here.)

For amusement, be sure to videotape this game and watch the anti-patriots for signs of stroking out at certain passages, including the "In God is our trust" passage. Extra party points to you if these folks and a Barry Goldwater/Ronald Reagan Republican get in a brawl in the street after this game concludes. And once the radicals and the Commies have left, you and the rest of your guests may alter this game and do kind of a Star-Spangled Banner Mad Libs. (My favorite motto, from Ghostbusters, "We're ready to believe you!"

On to the next game:

Washington Surveying Relay. It is a well-known fact that Washington was once a surveyor. Line up the players for a relay race. They may be divided into three groups, the Reds, Whites, and Blues. This may be done by pinning on red, white, and blue ribbons, having an equal number of each. The three groups face a goal about fifteen or twenty feet away. Give to the player at the head of the line a yardstick. They are to measure the distance to the goal and back with a yardstick, laying it down and picking it up each time. The players, as soon as they have finished, give the yardstick to the next one in line and take their places at the back of the line.

An alternate version of this game is to measure the distance in smoots.

Here's another game:

Spin the Plate. Play the old game Spin the Plate in a little different way. Have one player spin the plate and call the name of a state or capital. The boy who represents the state or the girl who represents the capital must each catch the plate before it falls. If she fails to do this, she must pay a forfeit. However, let us do this in a different way. Let us have a number of forfiets written out, and as soon as she fails to catch the plate she draws out one of the forfeits and must do the stunt indicated. After she had finished her stunt, the spins the plate and calls the name of a state or capital, and the game proceeds as before. The following are some forfeits which would be suitable for this party:

• Paul Revere mounting his hores
• Benjamin Franklin flying his kite
• Washington chopping down his cherry tree
• Pocahontas saving Captain John Smith
• Patrick Henry making a speech
• Andrew Jackson fighting a duel
• Daniel Boon ekilling a bear
• Carrie Nation wrecking a saloon
• Billy Sunday preaching a sermon
• Abraham Lincoln splitting rails
• The Statue of Liberty
• Or, possibly, Sgt. Pilcher's song

 And another one, where we get to celebrate a real renegade in American history:

Fireworks: John Brown's Alive. Of course in a Fourth of July party, there must be some fireworks. Matches are used for this stunt. The leader strikes a match and gives it to a player, telling him that he has the privilege of passing it as long as it is alive, that is, as long as it is burning or is a live coal. He merely is to say "John Brown is alive" and pass it on to the next player; but if it is not alive, the next player does not have to take it.Whoever has it when it is dead must have a mustache painted on them with the burned match. Also they must start another match.

I don't get it, either. Maybe they were hard up for entertainment in the 1930s, as this video of a 1930s parade might also convey:



The next game is meant to enrage the BG/RR Republicans in the group, if any are left after the Star-Spangled Banner-inspired street brawl:

Taxation without Representation. The guests are seated in a circle. The leader tells them that she is going to organize a Revolutionary Club. In order to become a member one must be initiated. The leader says "the initiation ceremony consists in saying what I tell you and doing what I do." The leader then says, indicating one of the guests, "Say, 'Taxation without representation.'" [Editor's note: The more clever of you in the Cokesbury Party Blog world already know where this one is going.] In sayin this the leader makes some peculiar gesture with the hands, as to emphasize what she says. Usually the guest will try to imitate the gesture, when the point is to merely say "Taxation," as he has been told to say taxation without (saying) representation.

Plan on this game lasting about thirty seconds.

Now, the party is over. Cokesbury, oddly, says "it is the custom in many sections of the country" to have fireworks on the Fourth of July. Maybe there were sections where the anti-patriots without Everlasting Gobstopper vigilance were already prevalent. And, of course, one must have "eats" during the fireworks. Cokesbury recommends red, white, and blue brick ice cream, or fruit punch and cake. All of which sounds patriotic. Nah. Give me a burned burger any day.

That's it until next week and we turn on the guffaws during Stunt Night. I'm off to watch the fireworks. Oooh! Ahhhh!