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Chris Kuhn

Editor, skirt! Tampa Bay

I'm an outspoken thirtysomething who has lived in the Tampa Bay area since 1992, full of useless facts on just about every facet of pop culture. I'm passionate about vegetarianism without passing judgment. I love to laugh. If we can't talk politics, music, movies, sports, TV or current events, you'...

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A Lifetime of Fireworks

Chris, Editor for skirt! Tampa Bay

Independence Day.

It obviously holds a special day in the hearts of patriots among us. I’ve certainly enjoyed my share of History Channel programs about the birth of our country and the American Revolution.

For me, mainly it’s a much-needed vacation day and an evening of clutching my little dog and rescuing him from the big, bad evil fireworks that scare him silly.

I’ve had my own share of independence days during my lifetime. Every little small step toward freedom (read: leaving the nest) felt like a celebration at the time. Now, as I look back, I realize that my own little revolutions were probably not that noticeable to those in charge. But they sure felt like a big deal to me.

That first stay overnight at a friend’s house. It took a while to persuade my folks that this was something I should be doing. I remember it well  – I was 9, I think –  my friend Kim Robbins and I stayed up really late listening to – believe it or not – Late Night Mystery Theater (yeah, we didn’t have CDs or Sirius back then!) and scared ourselves into frightened giggles. The next morning, cartoon viewing (of course – at 9, what else is there?) and singing and dancing to Born Late by Shaun Cassidy. Aah. Hey Deanie, won’t you come out tonight?

My first party. I don’t mean the cool birthday parties my mom threw me growing up. I mean, the first PARTY party – one that I attended without any idea what would happen, where I’d go and when I would be home. I was 14. I’d just finished up performing in the cast of The Crucible – Goody Ann Putnam, town shrew and convinced her bountiful family that keeps dying after a day old is due to the young witches that abound... the cast was having a party at one of the members’ homes – and yes, though the ages of the kids varied from 14 to 18, they had plenty of booze and rooms for who knows what to go on. I’d had my first beer before but this was both an exciting and scary night, not really knowing what might happen next. It’s also the first time I was in a car when the cops pulled us over. I just remember all of us eating Snicker bars quickly to hide our breath. In hindsight, I guess I was lucky to make it home.

That first rock concert.  It took some serious convincing to let me go to one of those wild and crazy concerts (or so they imagined). I didn’t get there until I was going on 16! So I had to move them into it gently. Yep, Chicago. Doesn’t get any milder than that. But I was a big fan – still am. And this was during the first official tour without Peter Cetera, so it wasn’t 100% Chicago. More like the unleaded version.

My first trip without the folks. I always traveled with my family and that was cool. Some of my best moments came from our summer vacation travels. But an opportunity to go to Europe on a college humanities tour when I was 19, was worth fighting for and negotiating with my folks. Standing on the Alps in Switzerland or in the Coliseum in Rome and realizing I was technically all alone and for that moment, on my own was just the push I needed to begin the detachment from the strings that still seemed to tie me down.

Going away to college. It was bound to happen at some point. I stayed local for two years to attend junior college, but the major of my choice simply wasn’t available in Naples or Ft. Myers, Fla. at the time, so off to Tallahassee I went to FSU. And I couldn’t wait to get started. Had no clue how I’d do my laundry for the next two years, but relished the chance to live on my own, make my own decisions and begin clipping the parental reins. It was freedom in the purest form.

Divorcing my first hubby. Okay, not a lot of people know that I was married before my current husband and it’s not a subject I discuss regularly. But let’s just say that I rushed into a first marriage that was doomed from the start and I didn’t have the sense and confidence to nip it in the bud until 14 months later. We separated over a summer and by that Thanksgiving, we were officially done. It was the best Thanksgiving I ever had because I had so much to be thankful for. By that point, I was still rebuilding myself, but I was truly on my own and loving the time to focus on me and it was much needed.

So when will be the next personal Independence Day in my life? Will it be when I retire? Will it be when I pay off my house? (Um, yeah, like that’s going to happen anytime soon.) Whenever they come, I’ll be waiting for them happily, with arms extended to greet them.

So what moments in your life come to mind as stretching your Independence muscle?