I absolutely love fireworks. America loves fireworks. Why, the 4th of July just wouldn’t be the same without “the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air.”
But this year, my anticipation of the 4th of July fireworks extravaganza is nowhere near as keen as it has been in the past. Maybe I’m just getting older and increasingly unimpressed by this kid stuff. No, that’s not it. I’m as wide-eyed at the star bursts and inclined to “ooh” and “ahh” as any crowd of teenagers.
Maybe it’s because I’ve seen them all before–those beautiful bright red bursts that light the sky with an umbrella of sparks and gleaming streamers, or the screaming gold and bright orange rockets that spread delayed white bomb bursts that hang in the humid mid-summer haze. No, my diminished enthusiasm for this year’s fireworks display is probably a factor of burnout. Fireworks displays are everywhere, year-round. They have become so commonplace they have lost their distinctive 4th of July charm and excitement.
Fireworks have become the obligatory signature of every ethnic festival. They are launched for everything from a supermarket grand opening, to a White Sox home run, to yet another special event at Navy Pier. Why, fireworks have even been used in the NBA in a futile effort to ignite Utah Jazz fans and psych out the visiting Bulls. And, of course, Christmas, New Year’s Eve and, yes, even the Bulls’ sixth NBA Championship have prompted elaborate fireworks displays.
Local newspaper reports proudly announce: “When the 4th of July fireworks are over, you don’t have to wait a whole year for more.” After all, you have Navy Pier presenting fireworks shows every Tuesday and Saturday all summer long. And the White Sox offer postgame fireworks every weekend when they play at home. (Maybe because there are none during the game–don’t want the scoreboard rocket launcher to get rusty). Why, even minor leaguers are jumping on the fireworks bandwagon with the Kane County Cougars presenting displays on several dates in July and August.
I guess it’s only natural that fireworks would get a greater play in our society. We worship grandiose displays. We idolize “bigger and better.” Fireworks simply represent the biggest and boldest of our gaudy exuberance. Grand punctuation to important events in the course of our lives and the history of our Western civilization. (Or for that matter, Eastern civilization, as last year’s Hong Kong hand-over festivities demonstrated with one of the grandest multimillion-dollar fireworks extravaganzas ever launched.)
But, the proliferation of fireworks displays for any and every occasion threatens to trivialize the traditional signature of our nation’s birthday celebration. We may become jaded by the endless repetition of a truly wonderful spectacle.
With the 20 or 30 fireworks displays I have seen since July 4, 1997, I almost have committed to memory the sequence of rockets, bombs and starbursts. The colors are still spectacular, but the bombs aren’t quite as terrifying and the grand finale seems less grand and more predictable.
Maybe to preserve the majesty of the special salute to our nation’s birthday, we should declare a fireworks moratorium for the rest of the year . . . except for very special occasions like the Cubs winning the National League pennant, and then one more time when they win the World Series.
Then again, maybe we should quietly accept the extravagance and buy stock in the pyrotechnology industry.
