I find it extremely awesome that no matter how Old you are, it’s great to stand around, one night a year, and watch bright things explode in the sky. It’s also strange how it’s basically reminiscent of war; things exploding, but instead, with fireworks, it’s celebratory. Like, YEAH! OREOS! BUDWEISER! AMERICA!
Fireworks in Brooklyn are especially amazing, as people head to their rooftops for a stellar view of the things exploding over the Hudson. It’s about a twenty minute extravaganza – which is pretty impressive compared to the fireworks of my youth, on the golf course at the Country Club – these displays seemed never to last long enough. But Manhattan’s got some mindblowing tricks, ranging from ghost-esque rocket things that dangle in the sky, to cubes and willow tree looking monsters.
While Watching them, there was a scary three minutes I felt like I was going to faint for real – it was either the power of the display, the Power of patriotism, or the 17 hot dogs I had just consumed. So sit my butt down on the wet roof I did, and watched from there. Oh, the sweet freedom of rainy barbecues, beer, and Pilsbury cakes of blueberries and Patriotism; America.