here comes america

There are many unknowns when moving to a new neighborhood.  Will  you live next to an angry drummer?  Are you directly underneath the airport’s most popular landing approach?  Is your new house or apartment filled to the brim with ghosts?


Slightly lower on the list of worries is: what kind of shopping is in the immediate vicinity?  After a few weeks in the new homestead, that question was answered for me when I received this postcard in the mail:

Pouring over this little piece of America, I knew I was living in the right place.  Fireworks?!?  This was beyond my wildest dreams.  I was hoping for – at best – a head shop or a place to buy nonexpired milk at 11:45 Sunday night.  What I got was FIREWORKS.


From now on it will be easy to find my new place of residence.  Just tilt your head toward the sky, look for the lights, listen for the beautiful boom.  I’ll be there, setting off TONS and TONS of FIREWORKS all day and all night long.

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