I grew up in a small town and today I live in another small town. Both are in the Northeast, but there are differences.
Tonight, Red Bank, NJ had its annual 4th of July fireworks display. Although it is a town of only 12,000 people, it sports the largest fireworks extravaganza in the state of New Jersey. The town swells to over 150,000 people (conservative estimate) and about $100,000 is raised to bring in some of the premier pyrotechnicians each year. There are numerous high-ticket parties throughout town where, for $75 to God-knows-what per head, one can be valet parked, dine lavishly, drink greedily, and get front row seats to this magnificent sky painting over the Navesink River.
Back in Mountain City, PA, I can only speak from past childhood experiences, none of which I shall ever forget.
The launching place was the Little League Field up on the highest point in town. The event was preceded by a rare baseball triple-header, where all 6 of the town’s Little League teams would have the chance to play. Even into the evening, young boys would continue to walk around in their baseball gear, munching away on french fries, pizza, and orange soda, usually wearing most of that colorful food and beverage down the front of their previously white uniforms.
The town of 4,000 drew about, oh, almost 4,000 by dusk. Unlike tonight in Red Bank, there is no major radio station to co-ordinate music to the well-choreographed display. Neither would there be the very latest in fireworks technology. What there would be was a whole lot of BOOMS! Damn, we all loved those explosions. The colors in the sky seemed to just be the prelude to one good loud BOOM! that would make the black dirt under your feet or the wooden bleachers beneath your haunches tremble.
The $100,000 Red Bank show lasts about 20 marvelous, breathtaking minutes. The Mountain City show seemed to go on for at least an hour and a half. A little bit of color and light and then BOOM!
The grande finale would feature lots and lots of booms; booms forever. An all-you-can-eat buffet of booms. And then families would trundle their messy Little Leaguers into their station wagons or simply on foot down the hill to their homes, their ears ringing to such a degree that normal conversation was difficult.
I sometimes believe I am a person who dislikes change; who hopes that some things remain the same forever. When I first came to Red Bank, their fireworks were rather paltry. Today they are immense. Despite that, I hope Mountain City’s fireworks have remained exactly the same. A rocket goes up, some sparkles fill the sky, while the whole town and only that one little town waits eagerly for one, simple, magnificent BOOM!
Happy July 4th.