photo credit: Theo R

I live in Northern California, just one county south of the area where there are hundreds of forest fires. These fires were created by lightning strikes and the forecast is for a possibility of more to come. Ironically, these are “dry” thunderstorms, meaning that they form rapidly and the rain never hits the ground. So we don’t even get that little silver lining of water.

Some good friends of mine live in the town of Paradise. Well, Paradise almost burned and they had to evacuate. Fortunately, their home was spared. Hopefully it will remain safe.

The reason for the title of this post is that there is so much particulate matter floating in the air that it looks like Los Angeles during a bad smog day. Everything has a tint of orange to it, and if you have any respiratory problems, you are warned to stay indoors. Yesterday, as the sun was setting, I was shocked to see a blood red sun. It felt like I was on a moon looking at Mars. I’ve seen Harvest Moons, and I’ve seen eclipses. I have watched comets go by and counted falling stars during meteor showers. But nothing celestial has ever hit that hidden primordial part of my soul like seeing that blood red sun. It was eerie!

Unfortunately, by the time I noticed it, I didn’t have time to get home to my camera and I missed the opportunity to photograph it. But guess what I’ll be doing today as the sun gets lower in the sky. It may have been a fluke thing, but if it happens again I will post a photo of it. 

UPDATE: No red sun, so I missed out on a great photo opportunity.

photo credit: zionorbi

Independence Day, the 4th of July, is one of my favorite holidays. The commercialism is kept to a minimum. There are no gifts to buy or cards to send. It is simply a day to celebrate being an American.

When we first moved into our home, it was one of several brand new houses built in a new suburban area. All the neighbors soon got to know each other, calling out to one another as we came or went from our homes. I’ve watched little toddlers grow into teenagers. For someone without kids, watching that process is quite remarkable. 

One of the ways that I kept up with everything was our annual 4th of July Block Party. Our street is very quiet with very little traffic. Each 4th of July, we would block off both ends of the street and throw a party. Those of us who lived on the block would drag out our BBQs, tables, and sun tents. It became a potluck, where everyone would bring food to share. Those who lived around the block were welcomed and would use any BBQ that was handy. John across the street could always be counted on to bring some fresh oysters.

We mostly sat around talking, drinking beer or wine. Sometimes someone would whip up a batch of something a little stronger. We would catch up on each other’s lives. The kids would run around playing with water balloons and water pistols. That would be when I would really notice the changes in the kids over the previous year. Now those kids are teenagers and wouldn’t be caught dead playing with the younger kids that are now making their appearance.

As the sun went down, we would start cleaning things up and putting things away. Once it became dark enough, the “safe & sane” fireworks would come out. It was mostly fun for us adults as we competed to see who could put on the best show using only legal fireworks. The show would often last over an hour. Of course, we had buckets of water placed in strategic locations, and lawn hoses at the ready, just in case. In the 12 years that we have lived here, nobody ever got injured by those fireworks and we never had even a small fire to deal with. Each night we would sweep up all the burned out fireworks and picked up what little trash might be left lying around.

One of our neighbors was a police officer, and he and his family would join the fun. Sadly, they were one of the first to move. Things began to change. In 2005, the county started cracking down on the use of fireworks, regardless of whether they were the safe kind or not. Towns like mine had them listed as illegal, but nobody ever enforced the law and most people weren’t even aware of it. Some other towns in the area still allowed them, so it was just a simple matter of driving over and stopping at one of their booths. But the turnout for our block party was noticeably smaller than in the previous years. There were still some of us who would set off fireworks, but we did so with an eye out for “The Man.” It felt silly, as if we were doing something to be ashamed of. The 2006 block party was even smaller. In 2007, we bought some goodies for the 4th of July, but we soon noticed that nobody was putting up their sun tents, no BBQs were coming out, no kids were running around. It was dead silent. Granted, the 4th of July last year fell in the middle of the week. But I thought that the regulars would still show up to share a bottle of wine and to catch up on things if nothing else. We ended up BBQing in our backyard by ourselves.

It is now coming up on the 4th of July again, and I predict that the block party is dead. Nobody is talking about it. Sure, things have changed. Previous owners have come and gone, so the core group of our neighborhood has changed. I no longer know the names of all my neighbors, and don’t recognize half the kids I see walking by. Kids who used to be shooting the adults with squirt guns are now out driving their cars.

It’s a sad death too. There aren’t many places left where everyone knows each other. Our neighborhood has joined the list of the mediocre where For-Sale signs pop up and ownerships change on a regular basis. But in my opinion, the one thing that killed our block party was the enforcement of the fireworks laws. Now people go to the “real” fireworks show that the city puts on, sitting in a sea of blankets with strangers surrounding them. Even though the professional fireworks are great to watch, that is all you are doing. Watching. Oooooh. Ahhhh. The fun was in being a kid for just an hour or so, and setting off fireworks of your own. 

I suppose I can live without the fireworks. But I sure do miss the block party. This year, the 4th falls on a Friday, so maybe it will be better and someone will show up. But I wouldn’t bet on it. I think my cherished block party is dead.

This topic is pretty light, but it has annoyed me several times already today and it’s just past 10am.  You know when you sign up for something, or post a response on somebody’s blog, and you are presented with the little box of scrambled letters or numbers, and you have to correctly input them before you can continue? “Captcha” is one of the more popular ones. I absolutely hate those things!

Sure, I understand their purpose. They are supposed to stop bot-spammers. But at least in WordPress, you can set up “Akismet” to weed out the spam. Or you can moderate your blog and dump the spammers before they ever get posted. I have nothing against the companies that have developed this type of service, I just don’t want their service forced upon me.

Why do I hate these things so much? Because it seems like I rarely get them right the first time. Sometimes I get a capitalized letter mixed up with a lower one. Or a “0″ for the letter “O”. Sometimes they are so bunched together or presented in such bizarre colors and styles that they are simply illegible (see illustration above). If encouraging people to respond to your post or buying your product/service is so important, why are you making it so hard? Heck, even the mathematical ones aren’t quite as bad. At least I am usually able to add 3+1 and get the answer 4 correctly.

Am I the only person that finds these things annoying?