Fireworks

Like many scattered across this country of ours, I watched a fireworks display last night. But mine might not be the same kind of which you’re thinking.
From my balcony which overlooks the city, I was able to watch the traditional downtown fireworks -brilliant displays of color and texture- while all around me rogue individuals set off countless packs of Black Cats, sounding like Beirut on a good night. I had a belly full of grilled turkey burgers and chicken dogs. Some vino rosa. Tequila. A grand mixture that had me on the edge of wetness. I was indeed in a festive mood, the holiday spirit upon me in fine style. The icing on the cake was I was invited to a concert last night, and given my day had been picture perfect I looked forward to a nightcap of good tunes and hand jive.
At the concert hall I was standing there with my business partner -a great friend- and an old flame, diggin’ the sounds, ready for a evening full of butt shakin’. Next thing I knew the old flame reached up and grabbed my partner’s ear, inquiring what he had in them. He pulled away from her grip and told her they were earplugs. The old flame didn’t say another word, walking over to the side of the stage. My partner, in turn, disappeared into the crowd. After a few minutes I walked over to my old flame’s side to better see some onstage antics as the band had pulled a girl onstage and were playing their guitars on her butt. As I did so the old flame seemed to purposely move away from me. I waited until the song was over then I casually asked her if she’d moved away from me on purpose. With as much chill as she could muster, she said,”I’m watching the band.” O-k-a-y... I walked away as fast as I could, realizing that for the millionth time this woman is tossing a wobbly and will not stop until she ruins everyone’s night. Why was she mad? I hadn’t the slightest and just don’t fucking care anymore. I walked over to the bar and took a seat and proceeded to have a wonderful time, listening to a band and a songwriter at the top of their form.
Midway through the show I saw the old flame walking brusquely from the venue. I, against my better judgment, followed her outside. As she was hailing a cab I asked her why she was leaving and without missing a beat she turned and leveled a blistering tirade my way that was based around my partners reaction to her touching his ears. Yeah... you read that right.... I was bamboozled. The tirade went on and on and I was accused of being basically nutless because I didn’t take up for her! Over what, I’m still uncertain. Not wanting the perfect day to be ruined by this mindless harangue, as I have watched many of my other nights be destroyed by this wastrel over the course of our relationship, I turned and walked back inside, took my seat, and immediately got back into the groove, as I should.
The rest of the evening was just divine. A perfect ending to a perfect day.
The fireworks continued though. I came home to the most unbelievable e-mails delivered by the old flame, accusing me of the most inane, topsy turvy shit, all due to my partners reaction to her touching his ears! I tried to respond to let her know her anger was completely unfounded but she’d blocked me. So instead she got to stew in her own juices, as she probably deserves. I’d say the woman is wound a little tight, no parts of humor to be found. Got a few issues and then some. Basically has lost the plot.
A day of fireworks indeed; overhead, in my face, all around me. But more and more, rather than my giving in to their shock and awe, I find a most pleasing calm settling over me despite the concussions.
The sparks and the cloudbursts are dazzling. The colors are most pleasing. I’m finding beauty wherever I look, even in the face of ugliness. I embrace the chaos, but I seek love.