It's the 4th of July. There are thunderstorms about. That combo always evokes this memory for me.

Backstory: Jillian's and Debbie's future fathers met in Perth, AU when they were both seaplane pilots in WWII. BFF and all that. They were in each others weddings and all that. In 1949, Ted and Bert became the proud fathers. Bert/Debbie lived in Marin County, CA. Ted/Jillian lived here in the Horse Capital of the World.

In 1966, the California Girl caught the fancy of some 22 y/o proto-hippie. Do the math. Faster than you can say "Daisy Miller", Debbie was on the plane to bucolics-ville. Unlike the mid-sixties California Girl stereotype, Debbie had short curly brown hair and was not skinny. However, she was very pretty and had "attributes" that tend to attract 22 y/o of all ages. Jillian, on the other hand was taller, skinny, just as pretty, had blue eyes and long blond hair to below her shoulder blades.

July 4th was a big night at the swim club. Live band, magician, fireworks, big cook-out... Jillian, naturally, brought Debbie. Gary and I were there stag (still a word?) because his girlfriend, Susan, was on vacation in Michigan and my girlfriend, Susan, was at a family reunion in New Hampshire. They were best friends, too. Very confusing.

Thunderstorm. Electricity blown-up. Gary and I were friends of Jillian from school and church. The four of us took off in Jillian's car to find food. And light. We ended up just off campus at a little Itallian place with the cliche red/white cheeked table cloths and candles in the reeded chianti bottles. There's a McDonald's there now! True.

We had pizza. Jillian drank iced tea with a lemon wedge. As we were getting ready to leave, Jillian ate the lemon wedge. Not just the pulpy part. She ate the rind and everything.

Debbie went back to Marin, left college after her freshman year, moved to a commune in Oregon, had 5 kids and weighed 275 when last heard from.

Jillian and I married in 1969.

I am partial to thunderstorms on the Fourth of July.