Ms. Kluender and I huddle by our apartment windows, cheeks pressed against the glass as we watch San Francisco’s July 4th fireworks display. After a particularly large round of explosions we revisit our decision to not join the crowds along the chilly waterfront.
We are veterans of the Boston Pops Fireworks Spectacular, celebrated by Bostonians with the same vigor and flair as Jim Broadbent’s Harold Zidler. Never had we expected San Francisco or any city for that matter to match its opulence.
Watching from our bedroom window, we now know better. “Next year,” I say. “We will have to go next year.”
Ms. Kluender continues to frown slightly, a rare occasion when she exhibits the famous Hong Kong pout. I can tell that this missed opportunity will leave a mark.
Walking back to the living room after the show, the local CBS affiliate airs the Spectacular from the Charles River. We watch for a few minutes before switching over to Breaking Bad before bed.
In hindsight, at least we don’t live in San Diego: