heat

I won’t lie. I’m a fireworks junkie. Just the thought of a heavenly shimmer, crackle and thud sends me into a heightened frenzy. In a good way, not talking seizures here.

Maybe the mellifluous movement overhead is just the beginning..afterall July 4th brings with it that fresh start of summer sensation- time off from school, watermelon, the mr. softee truck sporting its contagious melody, the return of flip flops and over zealous mosquitoes…Every year I seem to mutate into a fireworks fiend as the countdown to July 4th creeps closer. I find it a necessity to travel to the ends of the earth in order to secure the greatest spot of all time in the hopes of overseeing a glorious fireworks display. It is me against all of mankind in our plight to track down a prime piece of real estate for the evening’s entertainment. Whether I am perched on top of a Virginia rooftop overlooking the distant showcase on the national mall or sprawled out in the dew-covered lawn in Delaware or peering up at the shockingly florescent NYC skyline, the same competitive and greedy mentality will grab hold of me. Everyone else must have beat me to it. See them laughing and pointing and sipping on trendy sounding drinks like a Blue Hawaian and enjoying their picture perfect viewing of cascading colors illuminating the night.

Of course I know it is silly to release my enamor on such frilly and fleeting tidbits of life..and fleeting they are..As my friends and I stood eerily still and somewhat hypnotized by the flashing of distant colors, we agreed that the long awaited festivities are all too often anti-climatic..the formula always stays the same ...the dazzling of the crowd with a series of pint-size fireworks leading up to the double time special-effect fireworks feverishly surging into a put-put-puttering of giant hearts and stars, shimmers and shadows all frolicking through the vacant black sky. And then all that is left is the tye-dye colored sky, the spitting of the remaining sparks and a hushed murmuring enveloping the crowd.

Though some may consider it trite, it is this same formula which keeps me coming back year after year. Maybe it’s the familiarity, the comfort, the rebirth of a new summer; a chance to shrug off past mistakes and look into the cosmic spheres for some wholesome inspiration.

Or maybe it's just shiny lights in the sky.

Whatever it may be, my rambling does have a point. I can draw a parallel between my ardent desire to travel miles away from home in order to view the perfect fireworks with my insatiable appetite for everything out of reach..the items I don’t own, the people I don’t know..the jobs I don’t have…With all this envious frenzy, I am more prone to overlook those things perfectly within my reach that profoundly affect me on a day to day basis…my family, my friends, my here and now goals.

It’s not to say that we should refrain from looking outside the box..building castles in the sky..pushing the envelope…all those should be done in order to flex the mind and energize the body , but before we journey to the end of earth to enlighten our inner souls, we should at least feel at peace with our roots, our humble daily existence, the little things. (A little too much hatha yoga eh?)

That night our eyes grew tired from squinting, our hands clammy from clutching cameras. The tiny snapshots of fireworks left us thirsty for more.

Stumbling back into my family’s far too familiar living room after a New York City traffic ordeal, comprised of hundreds of other civilians who had crowded themselves into doorways, window sills, rooftops to witness the great showcase of lights, I could not help but smile.

To my content, the image of bountiful red and green fireworks crackled through the air just feet from the windowpane. They entertained a simple audience of one under the black sky, a piñata of sparks tantalizing the eyes and quieting the mind.

Maybe it wasn’t Time Out’s top pick of the night, but to me, it felt like home. Literally.

So, mission completed. Until next year July 4th..the heat is on.