Three days till the fourth, and already we're hearing the wheeezPOP of fireworks in the neighborhood. Not as much as when I was growing in the The Bronx, of course; then (and likely now) the place sounded like a free-fire zone, with casual references to M80s and cherry bombs all over the place. This is much more placid. Still, I am sure that tonight, when the local racetrack gets going, and they do their end-of-races fireworks show, its going to be hard to hear yourself think.
I said, it's going to be..... sorry. Hard to hear yourself think.