E and I are sitting in our living room, while all around us fireworks are going off. Why aren't we out in the street or watching from the dining room window? Well, I've gone back to a stance that I used to firmly hold a long, long time ago.
Fireworks don't mean celebration to me. I know, I know, I'm weird. Especially since we had the KFOG Kaboom party a few months ago. But I don't care what the Chinese say.
Sitting in the living room, hearing the boom-boom-boom of the explosions, I can't help but think that this is what every night/day/hour is like in Iraq. And Afghanistan. And pretty much most of the Middle East right now. It's the "rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air." It's war. And destruction. And loss of life.
And even if I can get over the sounds of celebration sounding like the sounds of death, the environmentalist in me is still not happy. I can't bear to think of all the chemicals that are being dropped into the Bay right now. That were dropped in all the bays and all the lakes throughout the country today. What kind of impact is that having on the water quality, the life of the fish and plants and other creatures that live there? It can't be good. I don't know anything about how fireworks are regulated in this country, but I took enough chemistry classes to know that the stuff that is shooting up into the air right now isn't suppose to be in the water (or the air for that matter).
*sigh*
We have a lot of fireworks here in San Francisco. Which is really surprising when you think about all the pacifists and environmentalists that live here. Sometimes the hypocrisy (my own and others') just is too much for me.
