Foggy fireworks are (not) an omen
Now, I’m not someone who believes in signs, or omens, or what have you. Even so, I could not help but notice a grim irony while watching the fireworks in Marshfield on Monday evening.
“Watching fireworks” might not exactly be the most accurate description of what happened that evening. Honestly, the phrase probably gives more credit than what is due.
The storms that had dominated much of the day across central Wisconsin had since moved on by the time the display was to take place, so things were set up to proceed as planned. Or so it had seemed.
What had failed to be taken into account was the sheer amount of fog that would settle after the storms had pushed through. As my family and I sat and chatted before the event was to take place, the moisture in the air started to condense, the fog thickening with each passing minute. By the time the fireworks started, I think we were all a little dubious, unsure of what effect this might have on our viewing experience.
We had our answer soon enough. The first few fireworks were dimmed, weakened versions of their normal selves, struggling to break through the thick curtain that had fallen over the fairgrounds. As more rocketed into the sky and burst to less-than-ideal effect, it became clear that the situation was only going to worsen. The smokey remnants of their predecessors were adding to the already difficult-to-parse-through fog, making each subsequent firework even less visible to those of us below.
After thirty seconds, the usual visual extravaganza had been reduced to a sound gallery of Michael Bay’s greatest hits, a constant cacophony of explosions bombarding one’s eardrums sans the colorful spectacle that usually accompanies it.
Independence Day is a day for people from across the country to celebrate the uniqueness that is the United States. To reflect on where we have come from and where we want to go. To come together and recognize what unites us as Americans, as human beings.
As I said, I’m not one to take things like this as some sort of divine communication with us mere mortals. However, in light of the tragic events that took place earlier in that day in Chicago, as well as the increasingly aggressive and polarized social and political landscape of this country, there was a macabre metaphor to be found in this scene. That one of the most prominent symbols of this holiday celebrating American unity was lost behind a fog of its own making while it kept blasting away as if nothing was wrong was almost too on the nose.
It was a drab and dreary thought that crossed my mind on a drab and dreary day, borne of pessimism and the pesky human habit of trying to find meaning in coincidence. It’s easy to fall into that state of mind. We are constantly bombarded with how we just can’t seem to get along. Seemingly, the only thing that Americans can agree on as of late is that their country is headed in the wrong direction. A June AP-NORC Center poll found that 85 percent of the respondents share that sentiment. The reasons for why, though, are very much polar opposites.
When you read statistics like that on a regular basis, thoughts like mine are sure to manifest, the task at hand seemingly as insurmountable as somehow dispersing the fog that cloaked that July night sky.
And yet, that wasn’t my final take away from the evening. The fireworks display itself was, yes, disappointing in a traditional sense. But while my family and I couldn’t enjoy the event as we normally would, we still had a good time, I think. There was fun to be had in laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, in being together on an evening that we would have otherwise been doing our own separate things. Someone in the crowd even started launching their own fireworks for the enjoyment of those in our vicinity. I’ll certainly remember “the fireworks that could not be seen” much more vividly than I would have had everything gone according to plan, and there’s certainly a better story to tell because of it.
We had to adapt, to evolve, to the situation we were dealt. We could have just as easily bemoaned our situation and left early. But we stuck it out. We found a different solution and poked some holes into that obscuring fog.
I’m sure America can do the same.
A C ERTAIN POINT OF V IEW
NATHANIEL UNDERWOOD
REPORTER
