Fourth on the Barbie

The Fourth of July is almost upon us and I have yet to make any plans to celebrate Independence Day. I'm most definitely a "planner" (some might prefer the term "obsessive compulsive"), so this is very troubling.

Like many Americans, my preferred way of commemorating our freedom from the British tyrant king is to drink beer, grill burgers (veggie burgers this year since I'm off the meat) and eat macaroni salad, potato salad, coleslaw, deviled eggs and watermelon. Plus brownies and cookies for dessert, of course, and an apple pie if I'm feeling industrious. Throw in some sort of outdoor sport (touch football; Frisbee; horseshoes), sparklers and a grand fireworks display, and you've got yourself a perfect day.

Unfortunately, our tiny apartment gets crowded quickly, and we don't have a grill. Or a yard. We briefly considered buying one (a grill, that is -- yards require a mortgage) and using it on the community roof deck, but the chastisement by our elderly neighbors and inevitable visit from the Boston Fire Department would likely put a damper on the day.

At this point we've been forced to start calling on friends and friends-of-friends -- anyone with a grill, for that matter -- to try and convince them to have a barbecue and invite us. So far, no takers.

Plan B is to just buy a grill, take it over to Ladder 24 and cook out under the watchful eyes of Boston's finest. Cute girls who want to cook for them -- how could they say no? Besides, us being out of our house cuts down the emergency calls by at least 35%, so they're bound to have some free time to eat burgers and toss the ball around.