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		A Firework Display
 After living for 18 years in Valencia I still consider myself passing 
		through; a guest who,
 although comfortable, doesn’t quite belong here.
 One aspect of life that I don’t think I’ll ever understand here is 
		Valencia’s love of fireworks.
 So, it wasn’t with a lot of enthusiasm that I agreed to go and see a 
		firework display with my
 wife last month.
 Parking was a nightmare, and the ensuing argument in the car nearly 
		ended in divorce. “Of
 course that space wasn’t big enough for our car”, and “how many times do 
		we have to circle
 around before realizing that these parked cars are here for at least the 
		next 3 hours?” Nobody’s
 moving. They’re here to stay.
 Classical music filled the night air, but why? Why not rap, jazz or soul 
		music? Are events more
 cultural if there’s classical music in the background? Are firework 
		displays truly a cultural
 experience, like going to an art gallery or a museum?
 Here’s a description of the display; Red ones exploded, then white ones, 
		followed by blue ones.
 And then, red, orange, blue and yellow ones exploded together in a sort 
		of ‘fireworks Greatest
 Hits’. They went ‘pooh, pooh, pock, pock. Wheeeeeeee…blang and then it 
		was repeated. The
 same thing again with different colours. I noticed people checking their 
		watches. How much
 longer? I checked mine.
 Finally, a whole shitload of fireworks exploded together in one huge 
		messy climax. I imagined
 the guy controlling the fireworks looking at his watch and deciding he 
		wanted to get home early.
 “The football match starts in 20 minutes. I’ll just press this button 
		and explode all the rest of
 them together.”
 At this point the classical music stopped so that everyone could hear 
		the babies crying and the
 dogs barking, frightened to death by the ear-bursting noise of the 
		crescendo.
 People clapped and cheered. Were the fireworks coming out on stage to 
		take a bow? Is this the
 gunpowder equivalent of the Rolling Stones live?
 My wife and I took a slow, an agonizingly slow walk back to the car and 
		then sat in traffic for half
 an hour. Well, that was fun. I can’t wait for next year. I wonder what 
		they’ll think of to make it
 any different!
 
 
		
		
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