Happy Freakin’ New Year

I never too much cared for celebrating a new year. It’s just another day for me. No big whoop. Yesterday the fireworks started around 7pm. At least I think it was fireworks. I would compare it to mortars being fired off. I’ve never heard a mortar, at least that I’m aware of, but I would guess my neighbors were firing mortars.

Eventually, I feel asleep and woke up at 4am, just before Shawn was going to bed. He saw my body jump in alarm as another mortar round was fired. I went to the bathroom and saw a bright flash of light in the sky accompanied by another loud popping sound.

“Where are these people getting their fireworks?!” I complained.
“I dunno. Fort Hood?” Shawn replied.

“Come on people. It’s been 2018 for four hours now! It’s MONDAY. That is all. It’s just another Monday,” I growled.

Actually, I think we should combine The Fourth of July with January first. We’d have to call it something else, of course, like, oh, I don’t know… How about Independence Day of New Year.

At least there’s a bit of moisture on the ground and I don’t have to worry as much about our drunken, idiot neighbors’ firing mortars to catching our houses on fire, as is the concern in July when it hasn’t rained in four months.
Seriously, this is a grave concern in our neighborhood on the July 4th. The city puts on a huge display every year in a park, IN THE CITY. Depending which direction the wind blows, we are sure to be cleaning up shells the next morning. Also, we don’t enjoy the fireworks display. We spend the entire time staring at the grass with a water hose in hand. Oh, and it’s been the exact same display, in exactly the same order for the last twenty years. I’ve already seen it. It does not amuse me.

One year, our neighbors’ roof caught fire after a hot shell landed on a vulnerable shingle. My brother in law quickly ran over, let himself into the backyard where there was a large party in progress and he hollered, “YOUR ROOF IS ON FIRE!”

The small drunken crowd proceeded to raise their arms and chant, “The roof! The roof! The roof is on FIRE!”

OK, I made up that last part. Concerned that maybe no one had heard him, my brother in law ran to the front, grabbed a hose and sprayed the roof. All was well and the owners were fine with it, mostly because they were probably a little drunk.

They didn’t even sue the city! I surely would have, especially since they claim the value of our house goes up every single year so we can pay more in taxes. Some years, we purposely made the front of the house look a little white trash so they wouldn’t raise the taxes. We even had an old toilet on the curb! A TOILET!

Alas, the city claimed our home was valued many more thousands than the actual value, even though there was toilet out front and random pieces of sheet metal projects scattered about.

So yes, I would have sued if it were my roof on fire. If they’re going to send balls of fire over people’s homes in July, the driest time of the year, they should also provide a water brigade to protect us.

Of course, they’d just charge that water brigade to our yearly tax bill.

NOTE: To my neighbors Lisa and Dave, LOVE YOU! I really don’t know if you were drunk or not. Adrenaline had filled Bob and he just reacted. I had to add some drunken details to add to the hilarity of this story. I still think you should have sued the city. Perhaps they would have provided a nice quiet settlement. And hush money. I would always take hush-hush money from the city.12339938665_e89eaf1c93_o

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