Yesterday Barry and I had a last small party at our house. I cleaned and rearranged the items that haven't yet been packed so the public areas looked presentable; Barry bought and cooked the bratwurst. We invited my parents and our friends Rich and Pat. After dinner we watched a Netflix movie and then drove out near the Surprise stadium to watch the fireworks.
I've loved public fireworks displays since I was a small child in South Dakota. Back then the fireworks at the fairgrounds were beautiful but sparse; they were shot off one at a time and the oohing and aahing had to die down before the next one went up. Since then I've been privileged to see Fourth of July fireworks from a boat on Lake George, on the Mall in Washington DC, at a couple of Pops concerts in Boston, and of course from several rooftops in New York City. Once my co-workers and I spent the evening of the Fourth on the roof of our office building in Brooklyn where we could see the fireworks going off simultaneously on the East River, the Hudson River, and Staten Island. I particularly adore the multicolored bursts like giant dandelions gone to seed, even though they're a little old-fashioned. The only fireworks I don't really care for are the ones that sound like a cannon shot and don't produce any pretty sparks. What's the point - deafening the audience?
The most recent fireworks display is always the best, though. The one last night closed with a burst of mid-air smiley faces - the perfect end to a nice evening.
My father says that it's hypocritical for us to celebrate Independence Day because his family fought on the wrong side of the American Revolution and had to hide out in Canada for about a hundred years afterward. My feeling is that we've been solid American citizens now for four generations, so why not relax and enjoy the fireworks?
"You may be a redneck if... your lifetime goal is to own a fireworks stand. " ~Jeff Foxworthy
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