A reality based independent journal of observation & analysis, serving the Flathead Valley & Montana since 2006. © James Conner.
I’d like to spend Independence Day with friends. Instead, I’ll be spending it in my backyard, a fire hose in one hand, a Pulaski in the other, ready to extinguish the faintest ember gone astray from a neighbor’s fireworks show.
The view southwest from my backyard in 2007. Other fireworks displays were much closer.
I enjoy fireworks. Immensely. But not when it’s 100°F in the shade and tinder dry, with the wind blowing toward me, and thousands of dollars of pyrotechnics going off just a couple of hundred feet away. In those conditions, I dread fireworks.
We’re going to have one of the driest, hottest, Independence Days in history. It’s too dry for private fireworks displays this summer. The authorities in the Flathead and Montana should find a way to prohibit them.
The tune for the lyrics below is Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.
At twilight time the fireworks start,
Never mind how dry it art,
Sticks of punk, and punks with sticks,
Firebugs practice flaming tricks.
Roman candles blinding bright,
Torching everything in sight,
Flash! Skyrockets limn the night,
A neighbor's roof they will ignite.
It's hotter than it's been in years,
Thank the Lord we brought more beers,
An eager hand to light the fuze,
Steadied by a pail of booze.
Powder black and Demon Rum,
Don't let temperance spoil the fun,
Flash! Skyrockets limn the night,
A neighbor's roof they will ignite.
Hear the sirens in the night,
See the houses burning bright,
Set ablaze a feckless way,
God! What an Independence Day.
Set in flames the whole damn town,
Burned the Flathead Valley down,
Flash! Skyrockets limned the night,
A neighbor's roof they did ignite.