Bang, pop ... fizzle ...

Independence Day is over and yet the cacophony of spits, sizzles and bangs is not finished it seems

We hope you all had a safe and enjoyable fourth of July. Here in town, it was like living in a war zone.

Surrounded by mini explosions, fire and police calls, it was truly like a movie set in the middle of a war-torn land.

We took a moment to watch the "displays."  Barely clearing the rooftops in this small town where houses bump elbows, myriad fireworks were going off with little breathing room between.

Like children on Christmas morning, those who had fireworks appeared determined to set them all off at once.

The scanner was non stop with calls about fireworks raining on roofs, too close to houses, in parking lots, in the street, or, a few, that insisted they were gunshots not fireworks.

On reflection, this new glut of noise and confusion – just because we can, is sad.

Gone seem to be the days where sitting on a blanket on the side of the hill to watch the town display on July 4 is looked forward to. Gone are the gasps and applause for a particularly beautiful burst.

Gone is the grand finale of color, sound and excitement.

Diminished in a plethora of mediocre blasts that offer more noise than visual splendor.

Sort of like comparing the company scrimmage to the Super Bowl.

And although there are still some formal public fireworks displays on offer, for how long? Why spend money when anyone can buy and shoot them and seem to be doing so day after day after day after day?