It was the 4th of July yesterday, and, for me, a unique experience. Living in Arizona for most of my life, and in a more rural area to boot, the Fourth was more of a simple affair compared to Seattle. Now, I’m not talking about the evening fireworks show, either. I’m talking about the build up and behavior that goes into the mix. It started a little over a week ago when we had a black out in the are in which I live. As we set about calling the electric company and lighting the candles, a very loud ‘CRACK!’ went off followed by a ‘SIZZLE!’. Then another one. I thought it was transformers blowing around the area. Then, I heard the staccato popping. For a moment, I thought, “What the hell! Looters?” I was about to grab my gun from my safe when I was told it was fireworks. Since it appeared there was not the Zombie Apocalypse occurring, I settled back down in my chair and drank some soda. . . .
Now, up until a year or so ago, Arizona’s laws prohibited private fireworks. Not here in Seattle. Every night since, a few went off, like the build up in the typical fireworks show, when a couple go up at a time. Okay. No problem there. Once I adjusted to the fact that people were able to set off fireworks, it simply became an occasional ‘notice’.
But that was nothing compared to last night. Being brought up military, I am used to living in areas where soldiers performed maneuvers and gunfire and even tank and howitzer firing draped the background noise for a few hours. But, Seattle seemed like a war zone for most of the night. ‘Pops!’, ‘Crackles!’, ‘Sizzles!’ of varying decibels, distance, and beats punctuated the dark from every direction for hours on end. At least one Winnebago went up in flames nearby and, as I understand it, several boats and at least one structure also burned in the revelry.
It was truly an interesting experience, but, alas, still no Zombie Apocalypse. . . though, to be fair, there were quite a few zombies shambling around when I went to work . . . .