I have never experienced more in the way of fireworks than I have in Brisbane. This city needs but the smallest excuse and suddenly South Bank is aflame and detonating. I'm not just talking New Years Eve, but pretty much every weekend, and quite a few weeknights as well. We've just had twenty minutes of fireworks and I've no idea what it was for - my hair looked ok today so it might be that.
Now, when I was growing up, we only had fireworks on one day of the year, and that was Saturday at the Gunnedah Show. Back then fireworks were special, I loved fireworks, one year I remember waiting twelve whole months for more fireworks, now I'm like, fireworks, well, yawn.
And that leads only to danger, firework-related injuries are on the increase in Brisbane, all that ash has to go somewhere* and its usually in somebody's eye**. The pyrotechnics have to stop.
*Well, a fair bit of it ended up in The Road.
**Except when it ended up in the road, where it's like:
"The kid squinted. Fireworks. Ash in his eye.
Don't kill the pyrotechnist, dad.
Don't kill the pyrotechnist.
He held his son close. They walked, bent against the light, and the ash. Fireworks. More ash. Darkness, but the ash remained.
Should have killed the pyrotechnist.
I'm glad you didn't, dad.
Jeez, can't I just kill someone?