Before You Do Anything, Check Your Fly

So my wife says, “Let’s go shopping.”
“It’s the fourth of July,” I remind her. “Nothing’s open. She reminds me that I’m always wrong. So, into the car we go and off to the shopping center. As we pull in, I immediately notice it’s packed. My wife is right. I am always wrong.
“Well, who would have thunk it?” I ask somewhat rhetorically. “I wonder what Thomas Jefferson would say if he were alive today.”
“He wouldn’t mind,” a little tinny voice buzzes in my ear. It didn’t sound like my wife’s voice.
“Did you say something?” I ask her anyway.
“Nope. Let me out in front of the shoe store,” she says.
“Well somebody said something,” I say. My wife is totally ignoring me now, perusing the ads.
“It was me,” replied the little buzzing voice.
I look around, somewhat frightened to be honest. “Who’s ‘me’?” I ask.
“Me. That little fly you’ve been swatting at,” the fly(?) answers.
Now, you would think at a moment like that my first interest would be could a fly really be talking to me. But, sometimes when we’re faced with shocking situations, our thinking gets a little off kilter. So, I ask (rather quietly since I don’t want my wife to know I’m talking to a fly), “How do you know how Thomas Jefferson would have felt about the stores being open today?”
“I was there. I’m a time-traveling fly. One of those time flies.”
“Time flies?” I exclaim.
“It sure does,” my wife replies. “So hurry up and let me out.” I do. I want to continue my conversation with the fly. My wife hops out and I go find a parking space.
“So, you were where?” I ask the fly.
“I was there with the whole gang…Jefferson, Adams, Lynch, the Lee Brothers, and, of course, Ben. I especially liked Ben,” the fly says wistfully, as if remembering times past. He continues, “I was the fly on the wall on July 4, 1777.”
“You mean a year after the signing of the Declaration of Independence?” I ask.
“Yep,” the fly says. “I remember it as if it were yesterday. Why there we all were at Monticello…” (INSTRUCTION TO THE READER: HUM THE TWILIGHT ZONE THEME AND PICTURE THE SCENE OF ME AND THE FLY DISSOLVING AND MORPHING INTO MONTICELLO, JULY 4TH, 1777.)

JEFFERSON: Hey guys, it’s been a year since we did the D.O.I. thing. We really ought to have a celebration.

FRANKLIN: Cool. How should we celebrate?

JEFFERSON: Why don’t we shoot off some fireworks?

ADAMS: Fireworks? Pray tell me what are fireworks?

FRANKLIN: Heavens, John. Don’t you read…ever? The Chinese have had them for years. They’re like…oh, like little rockets, that you light and they produce marvelous colors in the sky.
ADAMS: They sound like a good way for someone to lose a hand, or an eye. I think there are better ways to celebrate freedom than to shoot off fireworks.

LYNCH: You worry too much John. I think it’s a grand way to say, “Hey, we’re free. We’re all free.” And, don’t worry about the danger. We’ll just have a slave light them.

JEFFERSON: Sounds like a plan fellows. Why don’t you all come back about six this evening and we’ll have a cookout?

ADAMS: Well, count me in. I do have to do some shopping first, however. I want to get a pair of trunks in case we decide to cool off in the pond.

JEFFERSON: Shopping? Hey guys, it’s the fourth of July. The stores will be closed.

FRANKLIN: Not necessarily Tom. My craft stores are all open today. In fact, we’re having some fantastic Fourth of July sales going on.

JEFFERSON: Well, sounds good, but I think it’s a shame, you having to work on the fourth and all. This is a day to celebrate being a free people.

LYNCH: You worry too much, Tom. I’m sure he has the slaves running the store today.

JEFFERSON: Well, if you all are okay with it, let’s all get together.

ADAMS: I’ll bring the hotdogs and hamburgers.

FRANKLIN: Hey, John. I bet I can eat more hot dogs than you. Let’s have us a little contest.

LYNCH: Well, you should be able to Ben. You’re humongous.

FRANKLIN: You’re as ignorant as John. It’s not about size; it’s about metabolism. Why, one day, I can foresee that those little Japanese folks will be winning all the Fourth of July Hot Dog eating contests.

LYNCH: Japanese? Who are the Japanese?

FRANKLIN: I swear you guys really are ignorant. I’m surprised you knew how to write your name.