Over at THIS VERDANT COUNTRY in Minnesota, Jim has written a good essay on the curse of neighbors who blow off fireworks half the night. He contemplates the pleasure of sneaking in a gunshot or two at the culprits, under cover of the racket these ya-hoos are throwing up.
The horror he describes in his neighborhood was duplicated over here in our neighborhood, in Mid Michigan. Homicidal thoughts have streamed through my brain in the past, but this year I really went out of my way to ignore the onslaught. But, I'm always hoping for a fireworks accident that will serve as a sort of moral lesson.
Over by the police station, there is a large open parking lot and a playground, as well as a tennis court and other reccreational acres. If these scofflaws had any balls, they'd go over there to waste their small fortunes of explosives. After all, the cops don't seem to mind.
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