I love the smell of fireworks in the evening

It's Guy Fawkes night tonight in this part of the world, and the evening air will be popping with the sound of fireworks for hours, and I love every second of it.

The local media has been bulging with stories about wimps wanting to get them banned, because won't someone think of the poor pets or firefighters, and while these may be absolutely legitimate concerns, I still can't deny I get a thrill from explosive lights.

There was a line from a comic writer who turned out to be a total shithead about a particular noise that human beings make when they look up and see fireworks, and even shitheads make good points sometimes, because that line has stuck in my mind for years now, because it's true. It's not a cheer, not quite a gasp, but more of a primal tones of awe. It's a lovely sound.

The wonder of fireworks is in all of us, even if we try to deny it. Even if we try to deny it with sympathy for some sensitive dogs might have to sleep under the bed for one night, or for the firefighters who have to deal with the actions of idiots. They can also be terribly dangerous - a friend of a friend lost a finger to a firecracker that he held in a closed fist when I was growing up, but that taught me some valuable safety lessons (like don't hold a fucking firecracker in a closed fist).

And I will admit that their use outside the usual days of celebration can be extremely annoying, but for one night of light and noise, it isn't the end of the world. 

I will always look up at fireworks and make that weird noise again. I always do.