Yesterday was the Fourth of July, and while I am all for the great fireworks displays, I’m not so big on the personal noisemakers in my neighborhood. Aw no. I’m not just an old lady complaining. We’ve had firecrackers popping and banging at night in the city for weeks. I hope we’re finished.
I didn’t realize Pennsylvania allowed so many different types of fireworks. Heck, when I was a kid, we had sparklers and a bucket of water to put them in. And that was it except for the pop caps. I would say something old-fogey-like “We were glad to have them,” but in truth, we were.
In the city, it can get pretty dangerous. Kids and adults set up firecrackers in the middle of the street and light them off. What could go wrong? Trees, kids, cars, just to name a few. Plus, as I was trying to get to sleep last night, I realized the possibility of one flying through my bedroom window since it faces the street. I suppose that is not too likely.
Where are the police? They are all over the city, trying to keep things as safe as possible, and I quickly realized when I moved here, there was no way they could keep tabs on everyone’s fireworks. I’m sure they got a lot of calls, and I hope no one “shot an eye out!” Three years ago, my July 4th initiation was a cleared block and all the residents on the porches and sidewalks watching as the block’s “grandfather” set off rockets in the middle of the street. Maybe that should have been my first clue. It’s different than in the suburbs.
One thing I did hear when I lived outside of the city was gun shots going off. At least, last night, I didn’t hear any guns. At least I didn’t hear any guns over the sound of bottle rockets.