Let me begin this post by explaining something to all you non-Utah-resident readers of mine. Every 24th of July, the state of Utah celebrates a holiday known as "Pioneer Day", commonly referred to as "that weird Utah holiday" by the rest of the United States. Pioneer Day is celebrated in honor of those many brave souls who travelled the treacherous journey across the untamed wilderness to call the West their new home. Awesome. Good for them. Had they not done so, I might be serving school lunch to New England kids instead. And what a different blog this would be!
That being said, I hate Pioneer Day. Hate it. It's right up there with other holidays whose significance has been forgotten and is celebrated in ways that do not pertain at all to the actual meaning of the holiday itself -- such as Christmas, Valentine's Day, Easter, etc.
Why such harsh feelings toward Pioneer Day? Well, I'll tell you. In no way do I understand how setting off bright, obnoxious, loud aerial fireworks two houses down from mine expresses one's gratitude for their travelling ancestors. What does keeping awake your neighbor's 10-yr-old son 'til midnight accomplish vis' a vis' your pioneer heritage? What purpose does littering your neighbor's yard with huge chunks of expended firework ash serve? How will your forefathers recognize your gratitude when it is expresssed by leaving spent firework casings in the street to roll and blow about into your neighbors' yards?
I don't mean to be a raunch. I love pretending my neighborhood is a mortar test site as much as the next person. It's so much fun to have my dog shivering, bawling, and crawling all over me with each explosion. And forcibly returning my kid to bed for the fifth time, explaining that no matter how loud the neighbors are, it's still bedtime and he needs to at least try to sleep - what a blast!
There is, however, the concern of wildfire. If you are one who ever goes outside, you realize that it has been unseasonably hot and dry this year. Fires are breaking out left and right, and more than one neighborhood has been evacuated for safety purposes. The foliage around my house is particularly dry and brittle -- forgetting to water your lawn will have that effect. As such, there was much concern on my part for the possibility of an uncontrollable blaze starting nearby, and my yard going up like kindling. My fears mounted as hot firework ash & chunks drifted into my yard throughout the night, collecting like the Devil's snowflakes.
Needless to say, it was a rather anxious and sleepless night at the Peterson household. And perhaps this anti-Pioneer Day rant can be attributed by my broken >4 hours of sleep, my nerves so tight they almost sing, or the fact that my son didn't get his beauty sleep, and everyone knows little boys turn into snarling bears if they miss but 20 minutes of their full night's rest.
I do have a plan of action, though. Between now and next 24th of July, I will do everything in my power to travel state-wide and collect every aerial firework produced and available for purchase. I will gather these fireworks together, throw them in big potato sacks, and drown them in the nearest river like a bag of kittens. All the Whos in Whoville can join hands and sing all they want... I will NOT bring them back for all the pioneer spirit in the state of Utah.
But enough of this rant. I'm off to shovel the hell-snow.
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