Happy freakin' fourth

Whoever decided that fireworks should be legal really should be boiled in his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. Not professional shows; those are amazing. I mean amateurs. I hate amateurs. It's a combination of being afraid someone is going to blow something up (or set something on fire) that will affect me somehow, and the idiots shooting things off when I'd really rather be sleeping. Some folks are inconsiderate, brain dead morons.

I love professional displays but am generally afraid to go out in public to watch them. Why? Drunken idiots who seem to feel they need to set off bottle rockets into the crowd and hand sparklers to 3 year olds. I've been to fireworks displays in multiple cities, in multiple states, and anywhere with legal fireworks, it's always the same.

The closer we get to the 4th, the worse it gets. Night after night, boom boom crackle crackle, from as soon as darkness falls until 10:30/11. Generally speaking, I see the point of personal rights and the government staying out of our hair but all too often these people are so busy asserting their rights that they don't grasp how they affect other folks' right to personal safety, a reasonably quiet sleep, and people just plain leaving us alone. One of the scariest things I ever saw was at the house of some friends. One of the folks there was peeling back the paper on the fuse of a soon-to-be-airborne shell, cigarette dangling out of his mouth, beer in his other hand. All I could think was, thank God there's a lake in front of us I can dive into if I catch fire.

If people were safe about it and considerate, than I wouldn't really care. But it's apparently too much to ask.

Speaking of considerate folks, the elephants upstairs are back. The pounding is pretty constant. I hadn't heard them for a while and had hoped that meant they'd moved. But no. Thumpthumpthump squeaksqueak thump. Runrunrunrunrunrunboom. Thump. Elephants: the most likely conclusion. Interior designing elephants who are constantly rearranging their furniture in new and exciting ways. Nothing else could possibly explain it.

Downstairs this evening there were a bunch of folks singing in Spanish at the tops of their lungs. It sounded like it could have been a religious service - I don't know much Spanish but thought I caught something about Jesus. I'm holding out hope for an isolated incident. If I have elephants living above me and Bible thumping revivalists below I'm never going to make it through the summer.

My kingdom for some soundproofing. Or at least quieter neighbors.