The July 4 News from Walker, LA
I hope you had a great 4th of July. It's only 7 p.m., but the holiday is winding to a quick close in my little corner of the globe. The rednecks on my street (said with a respect they would both understand and appreciate) are defying the local officials' "no fireworks" mandate.
The Parish President thought fireworks would be a bad thing given that we are currently experiencing the worst drought in over 40 years. As much as we love giving chase to a blaze with the volunteer fire department, the President has banned firecrackers lest we tempt the Lord our God, or at least nature, with dry grass and smoking fuses.
But there's something sacred in shooting fireworks on July 4 just the same as letting loose with both barrels of your double-barrel shotgun at midnight on New Year's Eve. So my neighbors are lighting it up with what sounds like about a trillion hundred dollars worth of fireworks. Like setting a pile of money on fire, one dollar bill at a time, my conservative grandfather used to say.
Our dogs don't like it either. They are catahoula curs, the state dog of Louisiana I might add, and one of their claims to fame is baying hogs. "They got a good mouth on 'em," my Dad assures us when we question the necessity of five dogs in addition to the racoon and the horses we currently share our estate with. I believe him as I listen to the dogs vocally express their amazement, or perhaps disapproval, of the light and sound show going on right now.
It's only too uncanny that the local news featured fireworks safety specials, ban and all. I can almost hear the admission, "We know you are going to obey the law and go downtown to watch the professionals shoot fireworks for you, but just in case you happen to light up one little sparkler, here are some safety tips."
They know my neighbors all too well. We are not wait-and-see people, and we despise the notion that any professional is more qualified to do something than we are. These are the same people who took their boats down to New Orleans the day after Katrina and helped pull people out of attics and off roofs. The biggest insult in the whole ordeal was that officials asked it be left up to professionals for the sake of safety and organization. It is for precisely this reason that official mandates like that and this firework ban are largely ignored with the belief that they don't apply to us since we have just as much (or more) sense then the powers that be.
At 9 o'clock I made a pass down the main drag of town. Imagine my surprise when our fire truck flew by while I was waiting on my extra-long chili cheese coney at the drive-in. They even turned the siren on. Must've been for effect since there were only two other cars on the strip. No word yet on if it was a false alarm or not. I really thought about calling my friend and having her give me an update. (She has a police scanner--we don't ask how.) But I considered it poor taste and thought better of it.
So now I'm back to listening to the dogs, who seem to chat it up the most over Roman candles. If I were to start feeling really crazy, I'd make one more pass down Hwy 447 to see if I could spot the fire truck. But like my neighbors who are starting to knock off the fireworks, I'm feeling the back-to-work-tomorrow factor kicking in.
What's our next holiday? Labor Day? What are the odds we can do fireworks again then? I'm not sure what qualifies fireworks as patriotic, but it sure is downright entertaining. And that's the news from Walker, LA, where the dogs are baying and the fire truck is probably still riding around with the siren on just so people will come to the window.
The Parish President thought fireworks would be a bad thing given that we are currently experiencing the worst drought in over 40 years. As much as we love giving chase to a blaze with the volunteer fire department, the President has banned firecrackers lest we tempt the Lord our God, or at least nature, with dry grass and smoking fuses.
But there's something sacred in shooting fireworks on July 4 just the same as letting loose with both barrels of your double-barrel shotgun at midnight on New Year's Eve. So my neighbors are lighting it up with what sounds like about a trillion hundred dollars worth of fireworks. Like setting a pile of money on fire, one dollar bill at a time, my conservative grandfather used to say.
Our dogs don't like it either. They are catahoula curs, the state dog of Louisiana I might add, and one of their claims to fame is baying hogs. "They got a good mouth on 'em," my Dad assures us when we question the necessity of five dogs in addition to the racoon and the horses we currently share our estate with. I believe him as I listen to the dogs vocally express their amazement, or perhaps disapproval, of the light and sound show going on right now.
It's only too uncanny that the local news featured fireworks safety specials, ban and all. I can almost hear the admission, "We know you are going to obey the law and go downtown to watch the professionals shoot fireworks for you, but just in case you happen to light up one little sparkler, here are some safety tips."
They know my neighbors all too well. We are not wait-and-see people, and we despise the notion that any professional is more qualified to do something than we are. These are the same people who took their boats down to New Orleans the day after Katrina and helped pull people out of attics and off roofs. The biggest insult in the whole ordeal was that officials asked it be left up to professionals for the sake of safety and organization. It is for precisely this reason that official mandates like that and this firework ban are largely ignored with the belief that they don't apply to us since we have just as much (or more) sense then the powers that be.
At 9 o'clock I made a pass down the main drag of town. Imagine my surprise when our fire truck flew by while I was waiting on my extra-long chili cheese coney at the drive-in. They even turned the siren on. Must've been for effect since there were only two other cars on the strip. No word yet on if it was a false alarm or not. I really thought about calling my friend and having her give me an update. (She has a police scanner--we don't ask how.) But I considered it poor taste and thought better of it.
So now I'm back to listening to the dogs, who seem to chat it up the most over Roman candles. If I were to start feeling really crazy, I'd make one more pass down Hwy 447 to see if I could spot the fire truck. But like my neighbors who are starting to knock off the fireworks, I'm feeling the back-to-work-tomorrow factor kicking in.
What's our next holiday? Labor Day? What are the odds we can do fireworks again then? I'm not sure what qualifies fireworks as patriotic, but it sure is downright entertaining. And that's the news from Walker, LA, where the dogs are baying and the fire truck is probably still riding around with the siren on just so people will come to the window.
posted by Lee Ann @ 5:10 PM
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