Barack Obama? The Fourth of July? A delicious combination, bursting with patriotic flavor! And if you, like me, have been wondering exactly how the hell OFBP (“Our First Black President”) plans to celebrate the holiday, wonder the hell no more! Barack Obama plans to spend his Fourth marching for my own dear old mom and dad! Check it out (from yesterday’s Montana Standard):

Sen. Barack Obama, the presumptive Democratic presidential nominee, will participate in Butte’s Fourth of July parade Friday, officials have confirmed.

Yes, they are talking about Butte (Pronounced: Bee-yoot), Montana, that weird little city that I barely admit to being from. Listen:

Mollie Kirk, Butte Celebrations organizer, told The Montana Standard she is expecting a call from the Secret Service about parade logistics.

“He’ll be up front, marching with the Democratic Party,” Kirk said Monday. Gov. Brian Schweitzer will possibly accompany Obama, who will either walk or ride in the parade.

Butte is, if I may quote myself (and I may), “a small, mean, dusty old mining town.” My mother, my father, one sister, and my nieces all still live there. Generations of my family are buried there. (My high school job? You guessed it: The Montana fucking Standard.)

Butte has an itsy-bitsy population of about 22,000 (mostly very old) people and a sordid history twice as colorful as a rutting baboon’s butt sack (I won’t get into it). The tragic part is that all the good stuff happened decades ago, long before anyone who is alive now was even born, and Butte has stewed in dusty malaise and small town bluster for a century. The biggest thing to happen there in the last eighty years was a big hole, and the second biggest was a big hole, also.

Weirdly enough, Barack and Hillary both did visit Butte last April, driven blindly by the mad heat of their campaigns—and lady, THAT was earthshaking news. EARTHSHAKING! But this? Barack Obama leading Butte’s Fourth of July Parade? It is going to destroy these people. DESTROY THEM! Especially if he, you know, becomes president.

Well, when he becomes president, I mean. When, dammit!

The best part of it all, for many reasons, is that I grew up in Butte, and I don’t think I even laid eyes on a real black person until I was circa 14 years old. That wasn’t, well, from television. The irony is crushing.

But, you know. Yay, progress!

I’ll be sure to have exclusive photos from the event, courtesy of mom.