Fireworks

I would say that my aversion to do-it-yourself fireworks is a class issue, though technically my father was working class and--a handful of exceptions aside (I do remember one spark fountain on the driveway in Troy)--he wasn't into them either. Perhaps his law-abidingness trumped his attraction to playing with fire. (He was an attorney, after all, and it's hard to imagine him engaging in any kind of questionable activity without consulting the relevant statutes first.)

In any case, I've fully assimilated the bourgeois notion that fireworks are something you go to view in a civic venue with fire marshals present and every reasonable precaution in place to protect the spectators. Regardless, I was able to relax and enjoy amateur hour at a friend's barbecue in northwest Rogers Park. Some of the guys in the alley were even so responsible as to detonate theirs in a steel drum, which I suppose makes for easier cleanup.

My friend lives on the top floor of a three-storey walk-up on the east side of Ridge, so you actually get a view from his back porch in spite of all the tall trees in the neighbourhood. We could see the fireworks in Evanston, which apparently went on as planned despite the power failure there. Just as the party was winding down, I saw the most amazing moon popping up above the the trees, as deep orange as any harvest moon. Wildfires in Michigan?

monshu had left an hour earlier so I made my way alone down Greenleaf back to Clark Street--I'd noticed mostly single-family homes on my way over so I figured it would be relatively peaceful and it was. I'll admit I didn't really expect to come across a parked car with its engine running and see a guy reclining the front seat and getting blown. Other than that, the trip back home was entirely uneventful.