It is that time of year again. The time when you can't swing a dead cat without hitting a fireworks stand, or walk two feet without seeing a sign for fireworks displays. I think I speak for everyone here at I&TSG when I say, WE FUCKING HATE FIREWORKS!!
Why, you ask? It seems an extreme opinion of something so iconicly American. Especially coming from three sports-loving-all-Americans like us. Well, there is only one answer; one explanation for this visceral reaction. Baseball did it.
About 10 years ago, the three of us were spending our summer toiling away at minor league baseball stadiums. Baseball really is America's past time. And, like historical America, it adheres to a strict policy of slave labor to save money. The "paid" intern. If you want to call it pay. You get literal peanuts to work 8-18 hour days, do demeaning tasks, and you are supposed to love it. The idea is that, if they like you, you can get a full time job out of this internship. So, then you can get underpaid a little better to do the same thing. Fun, right?
In addition to the number of crazy, stupid, ridiculous, and downright retarded things we all had to do that summer, there was one thing that changed us forever. Every Thursday and Saturday nights were fireworks nights. A beautiful display would go up into the warm summer night sky and wow the crowd, usually to a Star Wars soundtrack. Then afterwards, everyone would pile the kids in the car and head home. But, not us.
You see, to all you people out there who don't know, fireworks leave behind debris. Big pieces of smoking and charred paper. And, if the wind blew just right, this shit would land all over the precious grass of the field. Guess who had to clean it up? That's right. Interns. There is only so much magic that fireworks can have after doing something like that. The only possible exception would be New Year's in Sydney, Australia. Then we might be able to endure.
So, while you are all out celebrating the 4th, and watching those fireworks, think of us here at I&TSG, cringing with every colorful explosion. God Bless America!!
2 comments:
Late at night, I can still hear the popping. Pop. Pop. Pop. "now go pick up those smoking parts of unexploded black powder....."
I remember we would not even be watching the fire works. We'd be watching the debris in the wind and motion for it like Carlton Fisk to go over the wall...
You forgot to mention the gay promotion that followed the fireworks where little dumb ass kids threw tennis balls into hula hoops stragegically placed on the field for stupid ass prizes. I loved picking up tennis balls as much as fire works cause there was always that one asshole kid who wanted to see how far he could throw the ball.......AHHHHHHHH FLASHBACK!!!!!!!!
Post a Comment