Since I'm laid up, the Fourth of July festivities were just something I was going to skip. If I couldn't see the fireworks from my window, I wasn't really going to go out of my way to get a look at them. Besides being pretty immobile, I've had plenty of years of missing the shows because of work.
Certain cool, drinky holidays I've tended to miss over the years for one reason or another. Not St. Paddy's, of course, but things like Mardi Gras, Memorial Day, Labor Day, and the Fourth I usually had to work (go service industry--white collar days off are killer business days for restaurants)(except the Fourth of July) and miss the all day party time.
This time it's because of the leg. Whatever. There'll be other days of fireworks.
But last night, while I may not have been able to really see so much, I could certainly hear plenty. Strangely enough, as I've been staying up late recently in the past week or so, the nightly neighborhood mortars and bottle rocket show have kept my ears on their toes.
A booming cacophony last night was quite the auditory show. Sometimes I tried to imagine that's how a war-torn London or Berlin might have sounded, if you were further away than in the city.
The dogs we had when we were kids couldn't handle the Fourth. The sound was far too much for them. Tuxedo, though, hasn't been too bothered by the booming coming in the windows. He notices, but not like a fraidy cat, like he does when a fire-engine with full siren blares down the street. That sumbitch is loud.
Last night I tried to put up a post here. I wanted to put a random picture up and have a cool little post. I did put up a picture, changed my mind and erased it, put up another, erased that one too. I ended up with five different pictures and five different stories as the sky boomed away close by, far later than any city sanctioned show. Five times I didn't like the direction and just stopped.
How this one became the next post, eh...been thinking about bosons too much.
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