As you know, the July 4th holiday is the anniversary celebration of an important American event — one of a category that includes the Emancipation Proclamation (January 1, 1863), the Nineteenth Amendment (August 26, 1920), and VE Day (May 8, 1945).

Thankfully, I don’t remember much that happened between VE Day and now, including when I was born, when my kids were born, when I was first married, and when I was divorced. But I remember very well when I got married the second time, and since then I’ve had some help remembering those other dates, except for VE Day, which I had to look up.

When I was a student at White Oak Junior High in the Late Pleistocene, one joke going around among the students was to ask: How many birthdays does the average person have? Our American History teacher spit out her English Breakfast tea when she first heard it, not in celebration of July 4th but because she was surprised to discover that we understood what made the joke funny — the difference between “birthday” and “birth day.” We all have many of the first (all anniversaries) but only one of the second.

This brings to mind one of the Unwritten Laws of Our Universe, which is that there are only two kinds of anniversaries: One, those important to you (and no one else), and two, those important to all of us. You may be able to count on one hand those that are important to all of us. But you’ll need both hands, both feet, and maybe two more feet (I dare not say whose) to list all the anniversaries you are supposed to remember.

Over two decades ago, I inadvertently discovered a surefire way to eliminate all the grief caused by me not remembering people’s birthdays, whether they had died, etc. I did the one thing that none of you will ever be able to do. I married my wife, Margaret. We did it (the ceremony) under the fireworks on Lake Union on July 4th, making it impossible for either of us to forget our wedding anniversary.

This would not have been appropriate for Christmas or another gift-giving holiday. Easter would have been an unlikely choice even though we were both raised from the dead, and Halloween would have been scary. Flag Day? Far too many double entendres. All I know is that it was the best day of my life.

I learned later that Margaret has an incredible memory for all kinds of stuff, including birthdays, which means I only need to ask her “If (insert name) is still alive, when is their birthday?” The downside of her talent is that I can never change my mind or feign ignorance of something I said before.

Lots of people think that their special day is the most important thing that has ever happened to anybody in the history of the universe. If you forget it, they will wonder how you could be so thoughtless, which is why there are belated birthday cards with slots for paper money. Anything smaller than a fifty counts as a second insult.

The nation’s birthday is another matter. As Benjamin Franklin was rumored to have said “Woe be to ye who dost fail to recall JULY IV MDCCLXXVI,” thus inspiring the message on the tablet held by the Statue of Liberty. That’s the rumor, anyway, and it is even more important this year, because this year’s July 4th anniversary may be among the most important events ever in the history of our national universe. It marks a time in our history when millions of people are assembling to formally oppose an imperial, unjust government, against which we have many of the same complaints we had against George III in MDCCLXXVI.

All this at a time when we’d much rather be playing Candy Crush on our phones. We can’t even agree to the “Coke vs. Pepsi” question, but we are on the same page about kings, and that’s saying something, right?

So, grill your dogs, drink your beer, and take a moment to thank the gods (all of them) that we still have a democracy, albeit one like the car my father drove when I was telling that joke in Junior High: a 1959 Edsel Ranger with one leaky tire and a bad water pump. It’s a classic that needs constant work and may leave you stranded, but boy oh boy, what a ride!

Greg Wessel is an island geologist.