i sit here writing when i have a million things to do. fortunately, i consider writing among the million. other things include completing my display boards for tomorrow, finishing about 80 pendants for tomorrow, packing the car for tomorrow, having cafe 1217's excellent tomato soup for ..... wait for it..... dinner. heeee.
anyway, i'm missing gallery walk this evening. this happens too much. i'm not missing fireworks in little rock. well, technically, i am. i was supposed to go with family and friends to watch from the ballpark but ended up having too much to do (for tomorrow) and had to beg off.
here's the thing - i'm happy (and relieved) because i hate fireworks. for the whole of my life, i've hated them. sure, i can ooooh and aaaah with all y'all but, really, i just don't get it.
and then...
i was 5'6" when i arrived for my summer in aix-en-provence. two events occurred while i was there. first, france won the world cup. aside from singing "god save the queen" while standing in the main town fountain (i was very good considering i only just learned it), i endured bottle rockets and firebombs whizzing by my head. now, that was a party... i have pictures someplace in storage. no flash, just flashes and, subsequently, flashbacks.
second, bastille day - a mere two days later.
in france, there are no fences around the fireworks launchers. there is no "safe" distance. it's an interactive experience. they shoot them straight up and let the sparks and ashes fall onto and through the plane trees. onto my hair, onto my shoulders, onto the interior of my right eyeglass lens and, sadly, into my lovely bottle of wine. this was new for me. new and very bad. the smell of sulphur permeated everything and the sound dislodged centuries-old bricks from buildings for miles around. i swear it.
imagine a turtle standing more or less upright. this was my posture for my remaining weeks in france. even through the wonder of the landscape, the clear, clear light, the dizzying scents of rosemary and lavender growing wild. i was traumatized. upon my return, 5'5". i swear it.
my view of fireworks has drawn ire from some and conspiratorial confessions from many, many more. it's a sort of cultural peer pressure, i think, to "enjoy" fireworks. i'd like to hear why people love them because i'm not buying it. anyone?
psssst - i hated "forrest gump", too. oh, and teddy bears? ick.
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There's a difference between loud, annoying bottle rockets being set off next door and a state of the art fireworks display. I have no use for the former but can certainly enjoy the latter. The noise is by far the least pleasant part of fireworks, so when you can see a show that is accompanied by a first-rate soundtrack, you're likely to enjoy it more. Finally, seeing it with children who are enjoying the spectacle is delightful. My favorite fireworks memories - Gator Growl!, the Epcot fireworks from a balcony in our hotel room and the Magic Kingdom fireworks from the top of the Contemporary Hotel (in a great restaurant, where the music is piped in and all the internal lights are turned off to maximize the viewing experience). Fireworks done right are spectacular. Happy 4th :)
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