The above photograph is my father in law at the pre-fireworks gala last night. About 20 of us met up at the nearby park for food, fun, angry kids and loud explosions.
Overall, it was most excellent.
But I digress: A quick thought on fireworks. Or, better yet, a word: Overrated. If you walk past the Empire State Building every day, you stop looking. It’s tall, it’s silver, it’s cool—but the eyes and mind adjust, and eventually a tall building is just a tall building. Fireworks have sort of become the same way with me. I sorta kinda like them, but I find my mind wandering (and wondering) after no more than six minutes. As others go “Ooh!” and “Ahh!” I go, “Hmm … what should I have for lunch tomorrow?” and “Remember that scene in The Cable Guy?” It’s not even that I’ve been spoiled by a lifetime of spectacular fireworks. Most of the shows I’ve attended have been, oh, merely Grade B.
That said, while the fireworks sorta dull me, the atmosphere—well, I love it. I’m really into crowds, and excited people, and that spark of life that accompanies an event. I love banter; chit-chat; friends hanging together and telling stories. It’s one of my favorite things in the world—the power of togetherness, even if that togetherness is based upon something like fireworks.
(Above photo by Andy Dallos—photographer to the stars)