110 In The Shade: The Big Bang Theory

Richard Ryan

We were sitting in a quiet room watching another exciting women’s soccer match, the FIFA world series of soccer. That’s when we heard the dull, distant thud. My dear wife asked me to go check on the noise. I was more interested in watching the skill with which the U.S. Women’s National Team moved the ball down the field. I didn’t volunteer to get up. She did and saw nothing. That’s because the huge fireworks bomb that was set off was far away. The explosions will only increase and come closer.

’Tis the season. You have probably noticed the fireworks stands set up all around the Valley. A friend remarked that there are more this year. The big bomb we heard is not sold at these stands. You can buy fountains, maybe sparklers. These are the safe and sane fireworks.  The rockets and big bangs are totally unsafe and insane. They maker firefighters cringe. I’m not going to get on my soapbox and preach about the evils of fireworks. My history is full of roman candles, bottle rockets and cherry bombs. Several years ago I bought a package of medium size rockets from a fireworks stand in New Mexico. I think it was on a reservation. I posed with the rockets and sent the photos to friends, but I have yet to fire them off because we don’t go out to the desert on Independence Day. I just don’t trust to light the rockets in our neighborhood of incredibly dry trees and drier rooftops.

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