oooh. aaah. [repeat.]
Jul. 4th, 2007 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kip_w.
When it started raining, I thought we might not have fireworks tonight. Sarah and I were brushing out teeth in preparation for bedtime when Cathy announced that she'd just checked online, and the Springfield pyrotechnics were still on for tonight. We hastened to get ready. Perhaps too fast; I left my bottle of water on the counter in the kitchen as we headed out to the supermarket parking lot where much of West Springfield parks to watch the floral shells launched from Memorial Bridge, between West Springfield and Springfield.
Once we were situated properly (close to the exit, facing the bridge, which we couldn't see), I nipped out to get water. There's a little Hess station that was closer than the McDonald's, and water there was just a buck (just a buck, he says), so I was getting some there when a man asked how he could get back to Boston with the bridge closed off. I told him how he could do it without intricate directions by just getting on 5 North and staying on it until he saw signs for the Mass Pike.
Back in the car, I brought out the light sticks; a package of twelve that I'd gotten at the dollar store a year or so back. I activated four of them for Sarah. We watched some of the small firework volleys from smaller communities. Cathy turned on the wipers from time to time, and the defroster to clear the view somewhat. Time passed as the sky got darker. Sarah sat on me, fidgeting endlessly until my stomach was on the edge of becoming unsettled.
When the big display started at last the rain was an insignificant sprinkling, so we got out of the car. Cathy and Sarah went back in because of the coolness of the night, but I was wearing sterner stuff (my fleece vest), so I could deal with it. Big, colorful shells went off, one after the other, with loud booms that set off some bozo's car alarm every ten seconds or so. My stomach's sensitivity gave the blasts a visceral quality that I quite enjoyed. It occurred to me that I had an mp3 player in my pocket, so I pulled it out and dialed up the last movement of Ravel's Piano Concerto in G -- perfect fireworks music. When it ended, the bombs were still bursting in air, so I pulled up Debussy's prelude called "feux d'artifice" ("fireworks"), as played by my piano teacher back in Colorado, the late Wendell Diebel. Much better than the hackneyed marches and mushmouthed country tunes the radio station was programming for the display (though I waited for "What A Wonderful World" to end before switching off the radio).
The car next to us stopped a glowstick vendor who was walking past. He generously sold them two sticks for five dollars. I'd have gladly undercut him if I'd known they were in the market. Cars started peeling off and heading for the exit, and the show seemed to be over, so I got back in the car. Cathy confirmed that the radio had resumed normal programming, and we worked out way out of the lot. "Pedestrians crossing," I told Cathy. "Use them!" That got us into the stream, and once the drivers on the street stopped blocking our green light, we got out. I suggested a route that took us through Agawam, and once there, it was clear sailing home.
Hope your day was a good one. Tomorrow, it's back to normal. Sounds quiet upstairs -- I hope Sarah's asleep by now.
.
When it started raining, I thought we might not have fireworks tonight. Sarah and I were brushing out teeth in preparation for bedtime when Cathy announced that she'd just checked online, and the Springfield pyrotechnics were still on for tonight. We hastened to get ready. Perhaps too fast; I left my bottle of water on the counter in the kitchen as we headed out to the supermarket parking lot where much of West Springfield parks to watch the floral shells launched from Memorial Bridge, between West Springfield and Springfield.
Once we were situated properly (close to the exit, facing the bridge, which we couldn't see), I nipped out to get water. There's a little Hess station that was closer than the McDonald's, and water there was just a buck (just a buck, he says), so I was getting some there when a man asked how he could get back to Boston with the bridge closed off. I told him how he could do it without intricate directions by just getting on 5 North and staying on it until he saw signs for the Mass Pike.
Back in the car, I brought out the light sticks; a package of twelve that I'd gotten at the dollar store a year or so back. I activated four of them for Sarah. We watched some of the small firework volleys from smaller communities. Cathy turned on the wipers from time to time, and the defroster to clear the view somewhat. Time passed as the sky got darker. Sarah sat on me, fidgeting endlessly until my stomach was on the edge of becoming unsettled.
When the big display started at last the rain was an insignificant sprinkling, so we got out of the car. Cathy and Sarah went back in because of the coolness of the night, but I was wearing sterner stuff (my fleece vest), so I could deal with it. Big, colorful shells went off, one after the other, with loud booms that set off some bozo's car alarm every ten seconds or so. My stomach's sensitivity gave the blasts a visceral quality that I quite enjoyed. It occurred to me that I had an mp3 player in my pocket, so I pulled it out and dialed up the last movement of Ravel's Piano Concerto in G -- perfect fireworks music. When it ended, the bombs were still bursting in air, so I pulled up Debussy's prelude called "feux d'artifice" ("fireworks"), as played by my piano teacher back in Colorado, the late Wendell Diebel. Much better than the hackneyed marches and mushmouthed country tunes the radio station was programming for the display (though I waited for "What A Wonderful World" to end before switching off the radio).
The car next to us stopped a glowstick vendor who was walking past. He generously sold them two sticks for five dollars. I'd have gladly undercut him if I'd known they were in the market. Cars started peeling off and heading for the exit, and the show seemed to be over, so I got back in the car. Cathy confirmed that the radio had resumed normal programming, and we worked out way out of the lot. "Pedestrians crossing," I told Cathy. "Use them!" That got us into the stream, and once the drivers on the street stopped blocking our green light, we got out. I suggested a route that took us through Agawam, and once there, it was clear sailing home.
Hope your day was a good one. Tomorrow, it's back to normal. Sounds quiet upstairs -- I hope Sarah's asleep by now.
.
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no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 07:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 01:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-06 07:14 pm (UTC)We had two sets of serious injuries locally. You may have already heard of the one on the Mall -- a shell that wasn't used went off and burned one of the fireworks people. The other was in Fairfax County and a shell went into the crowd. It critically burned two people. Turned out the same company with the same "cake" operated in other Fairfax County sites and also had shells go off sideways, but not into people. The fire marshalls said the cakes themselves looked good, but they couldn't look inside, and the cakes all came from the same Chinese company. There was an article in the WashPost about it today.