Independence Day (WEEK) in Butte

I have to share with those of you who were not fortunate enough to be in Butte this past week (that would be all of you, I'm sure) the phenomenon that is the 4th of July in this wonderful, strange city. The fireworks began going off every night starting July 2nd. My coworker called it "the tooth (2th) of July." I think that's a holiday Kevin would like. He has a thing for teeth. Even last night (the 6th) we still heard several rounds of fireworks being lit off around the neighborhood. It really is Independence Week here in Butte. They celebrate big time.

I meandered over to the parade on the 4th. It was scheduled to start at 10 AM and I walked from my house, probably about three miles away. As I neared the street where the parade was taking place, a police man stopped me and said I had to wait until Barack Obama passed through the area before I could proceed. I sneakily made my way across the train tracks and got prime seating for the parade. Yes, folks, of all the cities in the wonderful U.S. of A., Barack Obama chose to spend his fourth with the Butants, and hold a picnic to celebrate his daughter's birthday with us as well. But really, how can you blame him? I mean, look at the impecable style that comes so naturally to the residents of Butte: The beadazzled hat (above) caught my attention from about 5 blocks away. The people-watching was at its finest here. Apparently, people feel that it is acceptable to dress like a clown, even when you're NOT participating in the parade. Case in point, the gentlemen in the matching patriotic pants (below).
This little girl was absolutely adorable in her red, white, and blue dress, waving her little flag. I actually stole her and took her home with me. Don't tell anyone.
This baby was my favorite. I took about twelve pictures of her. I call this look "Ghetto Ballerina".
As I was about to leave the parade (thinking that Obama had already come and gone), guess who came strolling around the corner... and on foot, nonetheless! That's right, B.O. himself! What crappy initials to have, huh? He was walking along the sidelines right in front of where I was standing.

Here is the presidential candidate holding the ghetto ballerina baby. Her mom took a picture of her too. I wish they had left the bandana on her head, but what can you do?
Look how mad his security guards are. They're totally staring these people down. They may have the best "I'm gonna kill you with my right pinky if you try anything" faces I've seen in a while. I wonder if that's a prerequisite for the job.
After I got plenty of pictures, I made my way down to the sidelines and got a handshake from the possible-future-president. I felt a little guilty that other people had waited outside in the sun for hours to get to see Obama, and then I came to the parade for about 30 mins and got to shake his hand. But I'm over it now.
The rest of my fourth of July was spent talking on the phone to Kevin, who was driving across the country to come see me. I'm pretty sure that the minutes were each an hour long. The day went by SO SLOWLY. He finally rolled in at 11 P.M. as the fireworks were ablaze all over town. There was also a raging thunderstorm happening that night. It was awesome because both the lightning and the fireworks were keeping the sky quite brilliantly lit. Such a romantic setting for our reunion. I won't bore you with the details of what we did after that :)