The Fun of Watching Fireworks

When I was a kid the 4th of July parade at Maxwelton Beach was so short that most years we’d miss it. Back then it was a collection of tractors, farm girls with poppy flowers, the fire engne, and the boys from the V.F.W. All told that parade took about two minutes to pass in its entirety. In the past few years though that parade caught on somewhat and with the addition of samba bands, parades of spicies, floats, and folks walking in it just for the fun, the spectical turned into a proper event and maybe took a half an hours to pass it’s quarter mile route to the old baseball park. So it was with some excitement, and having missed the parade last year, that I parked and rolled down the hill to the route on my little push scooter. I remain unsure just what happened. Maybe the creativity ran out of the ground water on Whidbey Island and folks here just dried up. Maybe the planets weren’t right this year to get people inspired to dress up and do their thing – but for whatever the reason this year’s Maxwelton parade consisted mostly of people slowly driving new pickup trucks with adverts painted on the side and kids in the back hurling candy at the onlookers. That really was about it. Two chopped up Harley’s with P.O.W./M.I.A. flags attached, the kids from Island Strings with their screechy fiddles, one old International tractor, and an antique fire engine (also with adverts painted on) broke the otherwise somewhat tedious passings. Fun in the sun for sure and a grand day out just a little bit underwhelming. Always next year.
Later in the evening I strolled the beach road and took pictures from underneath the fireworks that were being blown off in record numbers. I was rained on by the fallout of charred bits of paper and ash. Quite the show.
Other than that the month has been hazed over somewhat by the netherworld of early morning television. Like, really quite early morning television. World Cup (!) begins at 5:55 AM, followed shortly after by the Tour de France, and now with the complete clusterfuck of Wimbledon added in to the mix the mornings are somewhat absurd and make for a strange day. Yesterday was classic. I woke really early and watched Justine Henin-Hardenne dispatch Kim Clijsters in ladies semi-finals, then over to the tour as it zoomed it’s way across the beautiful fields of Normandy and the second half of the day’s race, then off to work for six hours, then back to it live it large for Amelie Mauresmo’s win over Maria Sharpova in the other lady’s semi-finals on the grass, then two stations over to see the beginning of the bike race, the end of which I had seen in the morning. There is absolutely nothing like sitting on your duff watching great feats of athleticism to make you feel like a complete dud. World Cup wraps up on Sunday and life will go back to normal on the 23rd of the month when the Tour rolls into Paris and we can all get on with the day properly again.