Boom Boom Up Go The Lights
My first experience with the Atlas Pyrovision Productions pyromusical displays began unknowingly in the mid-nineties.
Twice a week every summer I would make a two minute pilgrimage up a flight of stairs to the rooftop of the apartment building I lived in. It was there I would wrap my legs around a railing and sit with a few neighbors, sip a few beers and share a radio to listen to and watch whatever country was lighting up the city skyline with their presentation during Montreal’s International Fireworks Competition.
I never knew until I moved to New Hampshire that every now and then one of the competitors representing the United States was from the Granite State.
For the past five years I’ve inadvertently traded venues. I’ve coincidently given up the “Old Port “ for the Jaffrey Airport where Mount Monadnock and not Mount Royal sits to the west as a comfortable spectator. I’ve also passed up on a urethane finished lumber nest away from the masses to being plunked right into the middle of a kinetic instant village.
After five years of attending the Jaffrey Festival of Fireworks I’ve discovered that I’ve developed a few habits.
We leave home at three p.m.. We set up toward the west end of the runway. We bring food but still spend a fillet mignon’s worth of money on a slice of pizza and pretend that fried dough is actually caviar. We clown around and gossip with our wee clan, play with the children and pause every now and then for the inevitable people watching games that involve various categories and awards.
Before you tag me as a snobby righteous individual you must understand that I have many faults and vices and spend my Sunday mornings in my living room instead of a church. I am the type of person that will eat a bacon and egg brunch, smoke cigarettes, and drink coffee while listening to an Adrian Rodgers sermon on TV.
Every year I pick out someone attending the Festival of Fireworks and declare that person the Festival’s annual “Queen of the Hoochie Mamas.”
This year’s “Muffin-Top” crown goes to the brave brunette with a total lack of common sense and too much self-esteem that decided to wear a beige cropped top belly shirt with a pair of low riding hip hugging jeans. Jeans that would fit the two-year-old kid in the stroller that she was lugging around behind her like a trash bag full of leaves being dragged to the curb.
Either this woman has not taken these pants off when she put them on for the first time fifteen years ago, or it took a town’s worth of firemen to power up an industrial sized winch, and connect a garden hose to a barrel full of WD40 to apply these jeans to her frame.
I can only assume that it would take the same crew and the jaws of life to remove them.
This year’s “Thumbs Up to the Mother of Invention” award goes to the pair of middle-aged couples who shared their makeshift plywood and a two-by-four deck perched on top of the cab and rear cap of a Ford pickup. Their brilliance was evident in the simplicity of the deck’s knockdown construction and sparse decoration that included a symmetrical distribution of flags, hanging baskets of flowers and parasols which left ample room for lawn chairs, coolers, and a patio table.
This year’s “Obvious Commodity” award was a tie. This category recognizes the sale of huge quantities of blinking sunglasses (think about that one) and rainbow colored flashing bunny ears.
There is something to be said about bikers wearing such bunny ears that I will not discuss in a public forum.
This year’s “Weirdest Moment” award goes to the ten-foot tall roving psychedelic Fellini Jesus with the ski pole propelled hands. This large puppet seemed familiar to me as if I had seen him at the festival a few times before but my inability to place him can only be attributed to the extra curricular activities of my early 80's college years and being forced to watch too many foreign films in my liberal arts classes.
Five hours is a long time to kill while waiting for the main event. Fortunately grandchildren are the greatest source of entertainment on the planet. Their resilience to teasing and tickling and ability to astonish you with their wit is a wonderful panacea. Burdens and stresses easily melt away in their presence during such family gatherings especially when you know you have the option of getting up and leaving them behind with your children.
The porta-potty Olympics are worth the price of admission. Acting like a coach yelling “GO! GO! GO!” as soon as one of those green monsters becomes vacant is hilarious. Watching the grand kids run in with such an innocent look in their eyes and then stumble out in shock is priceless comedy.
If you ever want to tap into a good belly laugh ask them if they remembered to flush after someone has entered the stall that they have just left and wait for the look of dread to pass as they realize that there was no handle to deal with in that scary fun house. Just remember that their trauma will pass and the color will return to their face with a quick hug and some guidance toward the dirty-soap-in-a-net-next-to-the-tap-blasting-5000-psi-of-cold-water-that-will-knock-the-shoes-off-your-feet-while-washing-off-the-experience sanitary center/play area.
Notepad memories from this year’s event include:
Wondering if the flag bearing parachutist actually made the back of someone’s pickup truck his “alternative landing” area.
Wondering where all of the green T-shirts were last year that belong to a group of wanna-be’s that I call the “Suddenly Celtics” fans. They’ve been popping up everywhere this summer. You couldn’t pay anyone to wear Boston Celtics paraphernalia last summer.
Wondering if that car owner from Maine ever turned off his lights after being told repeatedly for hours by the band to “SHUT THEM OFF!”
Wondering if the Wyld Nightz will ever take my offer to be their lead singer seriously and if anyone noticed the embarrassing moment when my son-in-law and I realized we were spiritedly singing the band’s version of Cheap Trick’s “I Want You to Want Me” to each other.
Wondering if anyone has the willingness to take a particular fried dough vendor to small claims court for raising his price from $4 to $5 after noticing his neighboring vendors were locked in at the higher price all day.
This family tradition is something that the missus and I look forward to every year. There is a special joy in sharing the day with three generations of family that ends with a big bang aimed at a full moon.
What we are not looking forward to is the crate full of energy drinks and Ibuprofen that we will eventually have to keep in tow behind our state of the art snazzy pin stripped customized walkers.
Judging from our worn out and lazy day after activities these are what we’ll need to add to our list of things to bring in order to keep up with the kids and help us get through future fun filled visits to the Jaffrey Festival of Fireworks.
