Why I Hate the Fireworks

Well, not it’s so much that I hate the fireworks, it’s that I hate the crowds.

I don’t like being squeezed into little plots of land, with strangers inches away from me in all directions.

I don’t like listening to people around me swearing around their little kids. And I hate the cigarette smoke, and I hate knowing that those little kids are breathing in that cigarette smoke at home.

I hate seeing people that wear sweatshirts that show an assault rifle and say things like, "Ban Morons, Not Guns" - like this is somehow profound.

Other than things like that, I like the fireworks.

Years ago, I would make popcorn, and put it in little brown bags for each of them. And the kids would grab their little plastic chairs and maybe a blanket, and we would walk with our flashlights and glow sticks to the parking lot at the end of our street, where we would watch the fireworks being set off a half a mile away.

Now though, it’s been so long that the distant trees have grown and they partially block the view.

But it was an adventure and a lot of fun.

In fairness though, I could just stay home. But Sam likes going, and I'm glad of that. I know he doesn't like the crowds and he doesn't like the cigarette smoke, but he goes because he likes watching the fireworks.

And he likes that we still bring popcorn.