PORTLAND IS BURNING, part 2

the residents of close-in portland aren't probably the most patriotic of americans (because, after all, portland is so european!), but they don't let on to any distaste for their country on it's birthday. you can't choose your family, and all that. and if you're around, you show up for their birthday parties.

most of what people in portland set off on the fourth isn't legal in oregon, but that doesn't keep every street in the city from lighting up with mortar bursts as soon as it's almost dark, and despite our vainglory for our environmental friendliness, the sun rises on the fifth to reveal the streets full of burnt out debris.

at the barbecue we visited before heading to the knoll at the southwest corner of mississippi and fremont to watch the pyrotechnic shows around our neighborhood and beyond (as far as lake oswego!), another of the guests said something about the fireworks she saw during the feria in seville, fireworks set off haphazardly by celebrating families with no concern for the proximity of other celebrants. one of her anecdotes resonated with our own experience later in the evening when one of the mortars launched by the man putting on the show on top of the knoll exploded at about only thirty feet and rained its contents over the nearby spectators.

the ones around the neighborhood far outshone the fireworks visible from downtown -- and they lasted longer too. and just as they started to taper off in frequency, lo, up the hill from interstate avenue came a dozen cyclists, half of them with their front racks stacked with boxes of roman candles, at least one of them a working courier. when they got to the top of the hill and the intersection they unpacked and started their fight. when they'd finished they put themselves back on their bicycles and headed east on fremont, probably (hopefully) to repeat their performance for another crowd. they'd had absolutely no consideration for traffic or bystanders as they dueled, and as the bursts from their weapons bounced off the pavement of the road and ricocheted of street signs and flew over the heads of the people sitting on the knoll, our so wonderfully unprecocious fourteen year old whispered harry potter curses.

it was heartwarming, really, witnessing the city at its best, proudly come together to celebrate its similarities. but then that group of idiots decided to use a sparkler to fire up a show poster that was stapled along with dozens of others to the electrical pole at the southeast corner of the intersection. it didn't take long for the fire to spread to the other posters and then to the creosote soaked pole itself. idiots. and wasn't that casey's old roommate? like they say, the more things stay the same...