I’ve been coming to terms with the fact that gray hairs are starting to appear on my head. I prefer to call them silver or white hairs, because gray sounds dreary, but no matter how you describe them they are unwanted reminders of my advanced age. Oh, the things I’ve seen in my 34 years! Examples: Al Gore’s Internet; The Dog Whisperer; wars conducted via CNN, video games, and iPhones; caffeinated water; people Tasering themselves for YouTube; Tivo; mega malls; pure-hearted citizens embracing “politics of change”; the boom of suburban housing developments called “plantations.”
As I reminisced about the good ol’ days when entertainment meant basic things like lighting stuff on fire, I decided to do something I’ve never done…stop by one of those stands on a random rural highway and buy some fireworks. Because isn’t that what being an aging male in America is all about? Recapturing youth through desperate attempts to re-imagine and recreate the past? Yes! Yes indeed! So, like my father before me and probably his father before him, I am going to cause some random minor explosions, feel thrilled at the slim prospect of blowing off part of my butt, and then stare off into the distance feeling vaguely unsettled.
(EDIT — Here are the elephants who sold me my fireworks. What got into my cell phone camera? Usually the colors don’t show up so nicely. Yesterday was a good day for pictures…great light.)
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