On this holiest of America’s fireworks-oriented days off from work, I’d like to talk a bit about how much I love my country.

My parents used to take me to the 4th of July parade in our New Jersey town. I thought I loved my country then.

At the fireworks later that night, everyone would talk about the “grand finale” — when was the “grand finale?” I thought I loved my country then.

But when I was 15 years old, again on the 4th of July, I truly learned to love my country.

Because on that day, at the Warner Quad in Ridgewood, NJ, in the company of a friend with the patriotic and appropriate last name of Hancock, I first saw Independence Day.

The top 10 things I learned that day that I would never forget, after the jump —