They lied when they said you could see the fireworks from my balcony, so we trooped down East Capitol Street until we got a partial view. These were not half as cool or in the spirit as the fireworks down at Lincoln Park -- a testament to creative anarchy, as every family in the neighborhood gathered to light off an array of fountains, bottle rockets, roman candles, and a variety of other things which are completely illegal in D.C. No order was observed, and both participants and spectators appeared to be in imminent danger of fiery projectiles. We sat on the statue of Lincoln and watched the other end of the park disappear in a haze of smoke.
I sent everyone home with care packages of chili and pasta salad. Huzzah! And now back to work.
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