"Oh Oh Oh those are my favorite" were words heard all across the country yesterday. I have noticed that people have this urge to point out which firework style they like best. There is a shimmering, sparkling, scattering, cascading, booming one for everyone.
We were on a rooftop yesterday waiting for the fireworks over the East River at 9:20. The view was superb, the food and drink plentiful and the crowd was eclectic.
At about 6:30 four virtually unknown men staggered up to the roof, they were significantly older than the rest of the crowd and had clearly been drinking since about 9 in the morning. The leader of the pack, who wore a paper stars and stripes hat in the style of Uncle Sam, came in carrying a pizza in a box. He offered it to everyone when he came in, he was in sort of a mad hatter theatrical stance and strangely confident. He began to bedeck the rooftop with purple garland. He mumbled under his breath that he had stolen this garland from someone he hated and he seemed disgustingly satisfied with himself as he flashed a protruding thorn-like incisor.
The night went on, the strange men were asked to leave, I was hit in the head with a piece of asparagus that was intended to hit my fiance, the host brought his trusty crowd pleasing guitar out, we chatted and laughed a bit and then the fireworks came, they were nice and sufficiently sparkly, but maybe not quite as spectacular as last year. Then afterwards I found myself in a vaguely awkward conversation about lactose intolerance with someone I hardly know. It was time to go.
When we were on the train going home we heard someone playing The Star Spangled Banner on the trumpet and I realized that I like the sound of that song much more than America the Beautiful.
Oh and the shimmery golden willow type are my favorite.
(I apologize for not posting earlier today, but I was exhausted from yesterday's festivities and just in a general funk because of the rain.)
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