Fire works

Fireworks appeal to practically everyone. You don’t even have to possess all your senses to fully appreciate them. The blind feel the boom in their sternum, bracing themselves for a series of terrifying loud bangs and pops. The deaf marvel at the vibrant light display in the distance. The dumb, well, they can’t get enough. But for the rest of us, fireworks are like nothing else. 

Zeus, a friend, tries his best to compete with the pyromaniacs returning from the Keystone state with a trunkful of goodies during the occasional noisy thunderstorm. But it’s usually a pathetic, sorry display of minimal thunder and lightning. The problem for him is that far too many rainstorms have neither. We’re used to drizzle. We’ve accepted light rain as a thing. Imagine that? And if the Z-man wants credit for the good times, he can’t hide from blame for the bad ones. The boring, mindless patter of droplets hitting your roof is enough to make a person sick. Zeus would be better off hooking up the turntable I bought him for Christmas (yes, he celebrates Christmas – it’s 2020) and listen to Aaron Copland. Because the deity's thunderclaps need more timpani. 

New York City residents have been treated to nightly performances of fireworks for what’s going on a month. It’s been a beautiful break from the usual buzz of AC units running out of juice and madmen shrieking. While both still happen all the time, they are harder to hear. It’s good to be home. 

I should mention that a few people find these displays “annoying.” But how troubled is your life that you can’t feel the joy in a blast so deafening you clutch your sternum in fear? How empty is your existence that you can’t see the beauty in a shot so blinding you rub your eyes for 5 minutes straight? What are you going to do – read a book to get your kicks? Binge on another terrible show that you watch with the attentiveness of a goldfish taking their final bow? 

Fireworks haven’t yet been ruined by modern art. I can’t say with absolute certainty it won’t happen one day. But these are things that haven’t been updated in a long time. They remain extremely dangerous. Which is kind of the point. There’s no Jackie Pollock inching his way to center stage, edging ol’ Rembrandt out of the picture. Fireworks are traditional. 

What’s incredible about these luminosity-loving renegades is that they’re rarely waiting until sundown to shoot their payload. When it’s still light out, fireworks are a mood enhancer. You get the essence of them, but not much more than that. Yes, they scare animals. But we're animals, too. Ideas scare us and they're not even illegal. And it's not like you have to go to Pennsylvania to find them.

When the fireworks stop – and they will – you’ll wish you hadn’t complained. You’ll hear what you think is a gunshot, but instead just a neighbor’s car backfiring. Tears will form in your eyes, wistful at what you've lost. We’re lucky to have it every night. Is it disruptive? Yes. Is it selfish? What isn’t? Enjoy the show.