I'm gettin' snarky in my old age.
As further evidence that I've moved from a truly urban, downtown setting to a semi-urban, outskirts-of-the-District setting, I'm listening to neighbors near and far on my street and the surrounding streets blow off fireworks. (Please note: it's 11:15 PM as I write this.)
Now don't get me wrong. I love fireworks. My mother is a recovering pyrotech who would, when she would go home to Green River, stop at the firework stores that dot the I-80 corridor in the Equality State and stock up on all kinds of gizmos and light shows that were loud and colorful. I look forward to the fireworks on the National Mall on July 4th every year. And I'm known to enjoy the occasional sparkler or two.
But fireworks in urban settings are unsettling. And, I hate to be the party pooper, but they ought to be outlawed. In a city that has a past history of rampant, violent crime involving guns and in a portion of the city that borders Prince Georges County, where gun-related crimes are on the rise, the sound of fireworks make me feel like I'm living in downtown Baghdad.
And speaking of Baghdad, how about the men and women of our armed forces who are recuperating mere blocks away at Walter Reed Army Hospital? No doubt a lot of those kids are breaking into cold sweats at the sound of the "rocket's red glare."
Snarky. I'm gettin' snarky.
Continuing in the vein of snarkiness--yesterday, I had a talk yet again with the neighbor kids who continue to think my side yard is their personal thoroughfare and who continually traverse between the alley and the street via my property. I'm afraid I'm going to have to buy a fence. Whatever happened to respect and keeping off other people's property unless you're invited onto it?
Ah, urban dwelling.
But wait... there's more... I realize the difference between where I dwell urbanely now vs. where I dwelt urbanely previously. Now, I live in a neighborhood with stable, long-residing families. Before, I lived in a neighborhood with transient, short-term dwellers. Mostly young, unfettered folk.
I still like where I live and have no regrets about buying up here, but I'm definitely beginning to see the differences between urban vs. semi-urban vs. suburban vs. rural.
Snarky.... Snark, snark, snark....
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3 comments:
But fireworks in urban settings are unsettling. And, I hate to be the party pooper, but they ought to be outlawed. In a city that has a past history of rampant, violent crime involving guns and in a portion of the city that borders Prince Georges County, where gun-related crimes are on the rise, the sound of fireworks make me feel like I'm living in downtown Baghdad.
My city doesn't have a particularly serious gun problem (I odn't think, anyway), but fireworks are legal here. And it drives me nuts. I am dreading the Fourth, because I know there will be explosions until the wee-est hours of the morning. I just hate it. I fervently wish they were illegal here.
I don't understand why some things involving gun powder and explosives are legal and some aren't.
It's funny that my home state Arizona, which is known as being especially hospitable for people who want to stockpile firearms, bans everything from sparklers on up.
People have such glee about explosives, don't they?
I'd be irked about people traipsing through the yard. A fence and a big dog might solve that one for you.
It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye...
I do love watching fireworks - the professionally done ones; there's no way I'd ever put on my own pyrotechnic extravaganza!
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