Silent Fireworks
On our front porch:
Or, Happy 4th of July!
It was sort of a strange week. Tim was in Los Angeles for work again, so I had the house to myself. I worked all week (6 days), but for most other people it was a holiday. It was like Memorial Day weekend all over again: most of the normal world off drinking and picnicking and partying, but SOME of us have to go to work. And help patch up the morons who get drunk and/or in accidents. I should be used to this by now, and for the most part I don't mind working holidays and weekends. But occasionally, after 20 years, the working-class martyr thing gets a little old. And I feel like saying piss on everyone.
I still got to see plenty of fireworks in the solitude of the cab of my truck, though. On the way to work Friday night, they were everywhere on either side of the highway. With Handel's 'Fireworks' music, a Cincinnati Pops arrangement of 'Yankee Doodle', and the 1812 Overture playing on NPR. And Thursday night we had a big potluck lunch at work. So it wasn't all bad.
Saturday night someone the next road over hosted a gigantic party. Why it didn't occur to them to invite everyone within a mile radius, we're not sure. Because we still felt like we were forced to attend. I heard the drums thumping when I got up a little after 6PM. Could hear them clearly throughout the house, and even in the shower. Middle Eastern Belly-dancing music, bad karaoke, shouting DJ and hundreds of fireworks. Not the kind we buy at the little roadside stands, but the big kind the towns set off for the public. All this from approximately a half mile away. Only slight variations of a constant 'BOOM. Ba-doop-a-BOOM! Ba-doop-a-BOOM!' accompanied by wailing, piping incomprehensible tunes. For FOUR FRIGGIN' HOURS.
I really don't think we were being Ugly Americans. Because anything, even '76 Trombones' or the Star Spangled Banner rattling off our siding and echoing through the trees for 4 hours would probably get on anyone's last nerve. Tim called the non-emergency Sherrif dispatch to complain, not that it would actually accomplish anything on an already noisy, busy, hot summer holiday weekend. More to make ourselves feel better.
I did drive back on that road find out which house it was on my way to work, and gave the place a dirty look. One hell of a graduation party was still in full swing, at what has to be the most expensive property in this entire area, at that hour. Tim said the noise went on until after 11pm.
The good news is that other neighbors are pissed off, too. And all the noisy festivities should be over by now. And I have a 4-day weekend coming up!
posted by Sleepwalker @ 10:51 AM
2 Comments:
I was wondering if you'd had to work. Well, just think positive: That way, you didn't have to endure more of that awful party. Some people really don't think, do they? The same thing happened the day I had my garden-party: There was another party, a couple of houses down the road, and they were loud enough that we had to speak up in order to actually understand what we the respective other was saying. Gah. And bad music, too. Maybe you should have revenge, Kathy. Get together with your neighbours and throw a big honking pool-party with really loud, really obnoxious music. ;o)
Very lovely geraniums, by the way!
That's an assortment of tuberous begonias, impatiens and ivy geraniums. All doing very well so far. It's the petunias that have not fared so well. The deer seem to think we have opened a salad bar just for them.
Post a Comment
<< Home