I have not seen a production of Hamilton although it’s been playing downtown for several years.

Thanks to the buzz Lin-Manuel Miranda created by re-writing as hip hip-hop an important opening chapter in American history, I’ve become familiar with lyrics to some of the show’s tunes.

In a scene, Aaron Burr bemoans the nature of politics in the fledgling collection of colonies as they try to unite for different reasons, despite different goals of individual leaders.

He sings of the necessity to “Hold your nose and close your eyes,” because of what leaders give away in trade for something they want.

Then, he follows with the refrain, “I want to be in the room where it happens,” summing up the feelings of many, that key decisions, made in our name – made for the collective – are usually made by the few without much input from most of US, and he doesn’t want something precious to him, to be given away by someone so disc-connected from his needs and concerns.

I want to be in the room where it happens…..

I thought about this idea this week as the country celebrated its independence.

Like many Americans, I have been disheartened by the state of our political discourse; by the horrendous acts of cruelty and unconsciousness that have been performed in my name as an American.

I get upset about news pundits that talk about the importance of the Democratic party needing  to revamp their messaging to the electorate when a bigger fundamental issue is not spoken much about.  The proverbial elephant in the room is that important decisions are made without the input from the people impacted by those decisions.

The current administration passed a tax cut for the wealthy although roughly only 15% of the population thought it to be a good idea.  (Republican donors represented many of those who approved.)

Most of the country would prefer to fix the Affordable Care Act, working on actually making things more affordable, than scrap it, and most Americans want a path to citizenship for DREAMers.

Most of the country approves of common sense gun laws.

But, most of us can’t get in the room where things happen.

I thought about this as I contemplated my options for the 4^th of July,  a paid day off from work for many of us, a chance to fire up the grill and tell yourself the diet starts tomorrow.

I wasn’t on anyone’s invitation list, and I didn’t want to stray too far from home, so I could be around for my pooch during the expecting tat-tat—tat-tat-tat chain of firecracker eruptions.

Early in the day, I invited one friend and my 22 year-old niece over. We grilled brats and had homemade sides.  My friend Holly made a yummy batch of sangria.  After dinner, when my niece left to meet her friends and the humidity was breaking a little, Holly and I sat on my back deck.

As dusk followed its natural routine of darkening, moving towards the right level of contrast for pyrotechnics, sure enough, the activity in the surrounding area picked up.  From my second floor deck, we could see smoke from ground displays and sporadic colored shots from Roman candles only blocks away.

A little later, we could see gold and red flashes above garages and trees.  They were being set off from nearby parks or behind houses.

At about 9:00, as the sky grew darker,  my downstairs neighbor, a man in his mid-forties, emerged from his deck onto the parking pad behind our building.  He was carrying a small object, like a bucket, and had a Cheshire Cat grin on his face.  He said:

You can’t take the eight year-old boy out of me, I guess.

He proceeded to set off a series of five or six sky rockets with dramatic pauses and appreciative applause in between.

Rather than fighting traffic to get to a major holiday show or, worse yet, watching celebrations on TV, organized by politicians who try to co-op the holiday for their own political purposes, the fireworks show this 4^th was (to borrow Lincoln’s words)  Of the people, By the people, and For the people.

I had never before been in the room where it happened.  I have never been so close to a skyrocket going off.  I felt oddly safe, sitting comfortably on my deck chair.  I was positively gleeful.

….and I regained a measure of hope about our future.

A leader probably won’t save us, but the total engagement of neighbors in building an ever-expanding community based on what we can share just might.

Enjoying a do-it-yourself 4^th of July celebration is no small thing.