Happy New Year everyone! As I sit here in la cucina having a little colazione consisting of il caffe' e il panettone and listening to the bells ringing in the nearby campanile (no, they don't shut the bell tower down on New Year's Day - if you have a hangover well too bad!), the chilly late morning air is punctuated by the random firework blast, set off I suppose by folks who for whatever reason didn't use up their stash last night.
Yep, as I only just found out a few days ago, New Year's Eve is THE 'fireworks holiday' in Italia. Now I understand what was behind the odd explosions we would hear some evenings in the past couple weeks leading up to last night. And we're not talking M80's here, we're talking jump-out-of-your-skin-with-surprise, rattle-the-windows kind of stuff. One evening about a week ago while Dog Chandler and I were out on our evening walk, we heard one such blast up not far ahead of us around the corner. I think I got a few inches of air under my shoes! As we arrived at the traffic light and turned the corner onto the main street, grey smoke still hung heavy in the air in front of the Bar Alexander. But there was no alarm, everyone was just going about their business as usual, so I supposed it was not entirely unexpected. So, Dog Chandler and I simply continued walking on past while I appreciated the unexpected powder fix (c'mon, you know you like the smell - just admit it!).
Finally last night, New Year's Eve was upon us - showtime! I felt a great sense of antici...pation! as darkness fell on our little neighborhood. First one blast was heard, then another. As the evening progressed, the explosions became more frequent and came from further afield, and I could feel the excitement growing in the air. Around 11:30 some folks were already doing some mini-displays, either as a warmup or just because they couldn't wait any longer. Finally midnight came creeping in and hot on its heels erupted the most awesome amateur fireworks displays I'd ever seen. For about an hour, our street sounded as if there were a local coup attempt in progress and made me appreciate what Francis Scott Key might have witnessed that famous night long ago. Flashes of color strobed over the sides of houses and lit the sky in otherworldly shades of red and green. Standing out on our balcony with wine glass in hand, I surveyed the situation with such an unmitigated admiration for the unbridled excess and utter coolness of the scene as might be felt by a little boy seeing nitro-burning funny cars tearing ass down the dragstrip for the first time in his life. Everyone had what appeared to be junior versions of the professional fireworks you see on July 4th back in the states. Actually, there are probably many little towns in America whose Fourth of July shows were matched - or maybe even eclipsed - by what I witnessed just from our own front yard. It was truly amazing.
Man I'm telling you, American backyard bar-b-q'ers need to seriously step their game up if they have any hope of measuring up to their counterparts here in the Big Boot. If I were one of those guys that thought my backyard fireworks displays were the shizzle and then saw what I just saw last night, it might drive me to simply give it all up. You know, throw away my punks and stay inside knitting beer cozies with the lights turned down and the curtains drawn. Seriously.
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