Last night we went to the fireworks at Stanford.

Our usual m.o. is to have a cookout beforehand (my in-laws live within walking distance of the campus), then to walk over there and watch from the Oval. A couple years ago I also started taking the car– along with the glow sticks, snacks, picnic blanket, etc.– over in the late afternoon, like an explorer leaving a cache of supplies.



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It was a great evening, and there were a ton of people there. As usual, we saw a couple Peninsula people, and got a decent spot on the lawn.



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The kids had more fun with the glowsticks than the fireworks themselves.



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For one thing, they were more interactive, and you could build things with them– or at least, try to figure out how to weave them into your shoelaces, hair, and other places.



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For another, they didn’t make loud noises when you played with them. For some reason, this year’s fireworks were especially loud– loud enough to set off at least one car alarm, even at a great distance.



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Tonight there are more fireworks all around us, but we can’t see them from out house: there are too many trees in the way. There are also some number of people who are having their own fireworks; or at least, they’re setting off lots of firecrackers, or some other noisy objects. So we’re just staying in, reading, and trying to deal with the fact that we have to go back to work tomorrow.

[To the tune of Ludwig van Beethoven, “Polonaise op.89 in c gr.t., ,” from the album “Piano Sonatas“.]

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