I guess I was about nine or ten years old when the incident happened. My parents were leaving for an evening out and gave both of my brothers instructions to look after me in their absence. "No picking on your brother and no rough housing," they said. Since there wasn't any point in negotiating the matter, my siblings promptly agreed to the terms.

I was the proud owner of a toy gun that shot darts with suction cup tips. I had been shooting the gun at our sliding glass door when my oldest brother had the brilliant idea to remove the suction cup from the tip of one of my darts and put it on the tip of one of his target arrows. He decided to test it out on a window in the family room. He placed the arrow in his bow, drew back the bowstring and let the arrow fly. I'm sure the suction cup did its best to stick to the window as the arrow made its way through the glass.

The panic that followed was unprecedented and a convincing story had to be created quickly as the hour approached when our parents would be home. Another toy that I owned was a rubber ball that had incredible bounce properties and after my brother swore me to secrecy regarding the incident, it was decided that we would use the Super Ball as his excuse for the broken window. We would play it off as an unfortunate accident rather than a blatant act of stupidity. When my parents arrived, my brothers told them the story and I backed it up. Our plan worked and my parents never questioned us about it.

Twenty-five years later, I was visiting my parents for Thanksgiving along with my two brothers. During a conversation at the dinner table, my brothers and I were reminiscing about the things that we did when we were growing up. For some reason I was reminded about the Super Ball incident and I said to my oldest brother, "Remember that time you put the suction cup on that arrow and shot it through the family room window?"

My dad remembered the incident and said, "I thought you guys told me that he broke it by accident with a Super Ball.

My brother turned to me and said, "I knew I couldn't trust you to keep your mouth shut."

The anniversary of the independence of the United States of America is celebrated on July fourth of each year. There are many traditions associated with this American holiday but few people know the origins of these customs.

In 1767, England began taxing the tea sent to her American colonies. The colonists where very much against this "taxation without representation" and, in protest, refused the unloading of the tea from the ships. The colonists became so upset about the taxation issue that, in 1773, a band of colonists invaded the ships of the East India Company while dressed as Native Americans and tossed a plethora of tea into Boston Harbor. The incident would soon come to be known as the Boston Tea Party.

Many Americans now celebrate this historic event on July fourth by visiting the very ocean that contains the tea from the Boston Tea Party. Although you cannot drink the tea from the ocean, many people symbolize the action by partaking of their favorite alcoholic beverage. Each summer, hordes of people can be seen occupying the many beaches of the United States to honor this historic event. Many people will lay out in the sun until their epidermis turns red to symbolize the skin color of the Native Americans that the Boston colonists imitated during their raid.

In 1774, at one of the first coastal celebrations of the Boston Tea Party, two young men were playing catch with a pie pan when one of the youths accidentally stepped on Benjamin Franklin. Franklin told the young man, "Hey kid! Don't tread on me!" The saying was soon incorporated into what is now known as the Gadsden Flag that was carried into battle during the revolutionary war.

The story is told of George Washington, the first president of the United States, when, as a young boy, he chopped down one of his fathers valuable cherry trees. His father questioned George about the incident and the younger Washington confessed by saying, "Father, I cannot tell a lie. It was I who chopped down the cherry tree." For most people, this is where the story ends but in reality, there is more.

You must understand that during this time of American history, people wasted very little and there was now a dilemma as to what should be done with the cherry tree. George Washington's father pondered on the idea and thought that if only he come up with some kind of food to insert on the ends of the tree limbs, he could extend the limbs over an open fire in order to cook the food.

Mr. Washington had another problem as well. Being a pig farmer, he was receiving complaints from colonial environmentalists about contamination in the Potomac River by waste runoff from his farm. He solved both of his problems by collecting the waste, forming it into a tube, inserting the end of a branch from the cherry tree and roasted it over an open fire. The wienie roast is still an American Fourth of July tradition today.

During the French and Indian War of 1754-1763, George Washington was taught the fine art of potato krinkling by a captured French chef. These krinkle cut potatoes were then cooked in a kettle of animal fat until golden brown. It is this French delicacy, known as the French Fry, that now accompanies the main course at a wienie roast.

Later on in U.S. history and during an American Civil War battle at Manassas, Virginia, known as the Battle of Bull Run, many innocent cattle, mostly bulls, were slaughtered in their attempt to "run" from the battle. The bulls attempted to protect the cows and calves and as a result, were torn to bits by both the Union and Confederate forces. After the battle, the hungry soldiers collected bits of beef from the ground (ground beef) and made them into "cow patties." Since the battle occurred just weeks after the July Fourth celebrations of 1861, these "patties" soon became a traditional July fourth source of nourishment.

In June of 1776, a Philadelphia seamstress named Betsy Ross was approached by Thomas Jefferson and asked to design a red, white and blue flag with thirteen stars and thirteen stripes. Betsy questioned the design saying that the color and patterns would probably make the appearance of the flag "too busy" and that project would be aesthetically challenging. She asked why he would want her to make such a thing as that which he asked. Mr. Jefferson, not wanting to divulge the true intentions of the endeavor, told Ms. Ross that the flag was a practical joke for John Adams.

Betsy made the flag but the original colors were entirely too bright. She washed the fabric until she was satisfied with the color balance and, since her clothesline was already full with the washing of the day, hung the new flag on a pole that extended outward from her front porch.

Betsy's neighbors knew that, as a popular seamstress, she was up to date on the current market trends in apparel fabrics. Seeing that Betsy had displayed her new fabric from a pole on her front porch, they hurried to create knockoff fabrics. Soon Americans were displaying copies of Betsy's flag from their front porches and the tradition is carried on to this day by the display of the American Flag from the porches of Americans each Fourth of July.

I was talking with a colleague outside of out place of work one afternoon. As he took a step forward, something splattered on the exact spot where he had just been standing. A quick glimpse of the object gave the distinct impression of a bird's egg. I looked towards the roof of the three-story building to see the derriere of a bird hanging over the edge. Within a moment, the tail feathers disappeared.

My associate and I examined the freshly scrambled egg. It was blue in color and appeared to be that of a Robin. My friend and I discussed the fact that if he had stayed in his previous location for another second, he would have been the victim of a fowl egging. It had, indeed, been a close call.

Later in the day I began to wonder about way the bird had laid an egg over the side of the building. Was it an accident, was it planned or was the bird just plain stupid? Perhaps the Robin had seen the hair on my friend's head and had thought it to be her nest. I imagined her chirping to her mate, "I bet I can hit the nest from here. Dang! I missed by a mile!"

It's possible that this wasn't a planned pregnancy or that it wasn't the fertilized egg of her mate. Perhaps the bird was too young to handle the responsibility of having a family or maybe she was just plain selfish and didn't want kids cramping her lifestyle. I suppose that it possible that she didn't know that she was pregnant. "I thought I had gas and, much to my surprise, an egg popped out!"

Personally, I think she was just trying to make brunch. After all, to make an omelet, you have to break a few eggs.

Waiting in the lobby of an office building for a friend of mine, I noticed a woman in the act of rearranging names on the building directory that was mounted on the wall. She made the comment that folks in the building were stricken with "Titleitus."

"Exactly what is 'Titleitus,'" I asked.

"It's when people are overly concerned with how their title appears on this directory board." she said. "Sometimes, because of the length of a persons name, I might have to abbreviate their title. Folks get upset about that. I just tell them I can abbreviate the title or put half their name up there. At least I give them a choice."

"That's interesting." I noted.

"Not only that but a lot of people expect their name to be at the top and get upset if it isn't. They argue over who's name should be on top and get mad if their name is below someone they think isn't as important. It's the craziest thing I've ever seen."

"It sounds like maybe your name should be at the top."

"No way! I wouldn't want my name up there at all. I put the directors name at the top and let everybody else fight over what order to put the other names."

It was then that I had a major revelation as I recollected that I very seldom, if ever, read a directory board when I enter a building. "You know," I said. "I don't see what the problem is. I usually just tell the receptionist who I need to see and they direct me as to where I need to go.The only people who seem to read the directory are those whose names are on it."

"That's the reason," the woman told me, "that Titleitus is such a debilitating disease."